A Normal Life
by Unknownmusic
Summary: Before moving to Stokely, before discovering his true power, before things had just gone down the drain, Vladimir "Vlad" Dracula, son of the infamous Count Dracula, was invited to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry upon his eleventh birthday. In a world where wizards, vampires, and other magical creatures live, Vlad must find his place among them all. AU
1. An Unknown Letter

**I do not own anything that will get me sued.**

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**Chapter 1: An Unknown Letter**

All Vlad had ever wanted was a normal life. He wouldn't have minded a typical suburban home in a typical neighborhood with a typical life entirely consisting of going to a typical school, taking a typical walk home, and hanging out with a couple of typical friends. He wouldn't have even minded the woes of growing up as a teenager or the commonplace friendship spat if that came with the packaged deal of normalcy. Was that really so much to ask?

Apparently it was. Why else had fate decided to have him end up with the surname Dracula?

Yes, _that_ Dracula. His father had, in fact, allowed his name to be used in the novel. He had always been one for attention and the notoriety it gained him made him a veritable celebrity in the vampire circles for decades. His father still looked upon it with favor; it was how he had come to meet his flighty mother after all.

Growing up in a dark, gloomy castle in Transylvania with no interaction with the local humans – or Breathers as the vampires called them – had only allowed Vlad's desire for a life free of coffins, cobwebs, fangs, and blood to grow. For all of his ten years of life, Vlad had only ever seen the occasional vampire visitor and his only constant company had been his elder sister and father. It became tiring after so long. He didn't understand how his sister reveled in it as much as his father did and he could not see how being a bloodthirsty, virtually immortal being could be appealing. It not only made all of the vampires he had met so far lean towards the evil spectrum but it also made them dull creatures to live with. Would it have really hurt his father to add a drop of color here and there outside of the typical black and crimson scheme?

"Oh, Vlad. Must you wear those atrocious colors again?"

Vlad sighed as he jabbed a fork into the unknown mush their mortal butler Renfield– and that was the most flattering way to describe the filthy man – had prepared for breakfast. "They're interesting, Dad."

The Count shuddered. "Far too bright, my boy. Far too bright. I don't understand why you insist on them."

"Maybe because he is a useless wimp," Vlad's sister, Ingrid, sneered. "I prefer darker colors myself."

Their father rolled his eyes. "And I care why, Ingrid?"

There was a brief flash of hurt in Ingrid's eyes that Vlad knew only he noticed before a slightly disinterested mask covered it. She had become better at that lately. Vlad could still remember the times when she had fled the room in her misery. Now she was beginning to nurture a façade. A part of Vlad was glad for her because maybe this way it would hurt less but another part of him was unsettled.

"Enough of _her_," the Count continued. "Today is your day, Vladdy! Only five more years until you become a full vampire!"

That did little to brighten the breakfast up. Sometimes Vlad wondered whether his father said things like that on purpose to put him off kilter. Once upon a time Vlad had enjoyed his birthdays, but when he had decided that he would prefer a normal life, the slowly decreasing years until his sixteenth had become a source of dread. He didn't need to be reminded that today he was eleven, one year closer to becoming an evil being.

"Thanks," he mumbled and wrung his hands beneath the table. "Can I be dismissed?"

"Of course, of course. Out to do naughty things, Vlad? Feeling your vampire instincts kicking in already?"

That seemed to irritate Ingrid. "As if," she spat. "He's probably off to talk to his stuffed dog or try to sneak off to the village again. And what are you doing up anyway, Dad? You never get up before sunset! Up only to wish that my brother a happy birthday?"

By the time his father had graced his sister with an answer, Vlad was already out of earshot and climbing the stairs to his quarters. His knuckles were white as they gripped the banister on the way up and he had to struggle not to feel that despair again. He burst into his room, the highest one in the entire estate, and promptly shut the door behind him before falling with a groan on to his bed.

"It's only nine in the morning," Zoltan said from the corner of the room. "That bad already?"

Vlad groaned again and shoved his face into his pillows. He refused to face the talking stuffed Hellhound's yellow eyes.

"Master, I don't understand why you're so upset every year. You were born a vampire. Most are proud of that."

"That's what makes it so much worse! At least if I had been born human I would have had a chance at a normal life. I have no choice! When I turn sixteen…" Vlad screwed his eyes shut and clung to his sheets. "I'm not exactly a vampire yet. I can still stand in the sun and eat garlic and cross flowing water and my heart still works. I'm _alive_ Zoltan and I'd like to stay that way."

Zoltan had already known this would be a useless conversation from the very beginning. The Hellhound still didn't know what had changed his young master's opinion so many years ago but this child, who had the chance to become something many others desired to be, had wanted nothing more than humanity. Zoltan was about to console his master further and opened his mouth to do so only to let out a slight gasp instead when something spontaneously slammed into the room's window.

Vlad jerked up from his bed at the noise and scrambled over to see what had happened. His brow furrowed when nothing seemed to be there but yelped and stumbled backwards when a great owl appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He stared at it, wondering why an owl of all creatures would be hovering outside his window during the _day_ of all times. When it became clear that the owl would not go away, Vlad tentatively reached out and opened the window.

Immediately, the owl fluttered inside and settled upon the desk in his room. It ruffled its feathers and blinked once before straightening itself and regally presenting its left leg. Vlad stared at it in amusement and a little shock before his mind completely registered that there was a letter tied to the extended appendage. He extracted it, wondering who on earth had come up with the idea of delivery owls, and slowly read the address.

_Mr. Vladimir Dracula_

_The Northernmost Room of the Dracula Castle_

There was nothing more written on the envelope, as if it was expected that the receiver would already know whom the sender was. Who would possibly want to send him a letter this way? The accuracy of the address was unnerving. Any of his father's vampire acquaintances could travel fast enough to drop by and give him praise or insult if they so wished, but nobody truly sent letters to anybody when they could travel from one place to another in the blink of an eye unless it involved formal protocol.

"What is it, Master Vlad?" Zoltan asked, twisting his head and trying to catch a glimpse of the letter.

Vlad ran a finger over the ink and noted how the envelope was parchment – the same type of medium his own, old-fashioned father used. "I don't really know."

~0~

Minerva McGonagall took a certain small pleasure in sending out the letters to the upcoming students every year. Although it only involved a gigantic stack of paper, a continuously self-updating name index of qualified magical students, and a single flick of her wand to send them all out, she liked to see the names whizz by and note the ones that caught her interest.

She saw the expected names of various families and other acquaintances – the Malfoys, the Weasleys, the Zabinis, the Abbotts, the Notts, the Longbottoms, and others – but her eyes immediately zeroed in on the most anticipated name of the year: Harry Potter. She could only glimpse the name as it soared out the window to attach itself to a free owl but a smile touched her lips and a sense of anticipation and an actual slight tingle of fear shivered down her spine. With Harry back in the magical world, there was no doubt that the eleven-year peace would be shaken, if not broken. Dumbledore had little faith in Voldemort's complete demise and she was wise enough to realize that what he believed most likely had certain grains of truth.

She watched a few more letters fly by before she stood and dusted herself off to depart. As Minerva strode out, she took one last glance at the letters and her eyes caught another name. She froze in her stride as her brain actually computed what the name had been and a sense of disbelief flooded her.

Did that one name say _Dracula?_

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**Yup, that was pretty short. Just a taste I suppose :) I have already written chapter 2 and 3 because it's sort of fun writing this all from Vlad's POV. I just got hooked on Young Dracula and yes, I know it's a "kids" show but hey, the last two seasons were definitely more than just "kids" shows and I never said I grew up. I'm just physically mature, not mentally guys :D **_  
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**Anyway kudos to all of you guys out there who watch the show too. **

**And I really shouldn't be writing ANOTHER bunny idea but really, I think I'm going to continue this. There's just so much I can do especially since the Harry Potter world already had vampires in it. This is going to be fun haha...**

**Till Next Time!**

**PS No, I don't support the Count's treatment of Ingrid (who does?). I'm just staying true to character. **


	2. Cats, Conductors, and Conundrums

**I do not own anything that will get me sued.**

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**Chapter 2: Cats, Conductors, and Conundrums **

"This has got to be a joke," Ingrid ground out as she gripped the arms of her chair in the living room. "There's no way that's not a joke."

"Oh, Vladdy! That's my boy! I always knew you were so much better than your sister but I had no idea just how much better!"

Vlad grimaced at his father's exuberant exclaims and a part of him wished that he wouldn't be showered by such praises. It was vampire tradition to favor the male children but somehow he had a feeling that his father was taking it a little bit far by completely disregarding his sister like that.

Ingrid scoffed. "A boarding school? For _magic_? For _wizards and witches_? There's no such thing!"

"You really believe that after growing up in a _vampire_ family?" Vlad muttered. And indeed that was the only reason why he himself hadn't tossed the letter out upon first reading its contents. He had never heard of other mythical creatures outside of werewolves but anything was possible.

"Oh, Vlad, our family hasn't had a wizard in a millennia! You special, special boy! The rest of the clans will be so _jealous_ when they hear about this! _Two_ members of the Dracula family invited now!"

"You're going to tell the others?" Ingrid said in disbelief. "This is obviously a hoax, Dad. Do you really think any decent school would be named Hogwarts?"

"Oh, shush, you're ruining Vlad's special day," the Count dismissed. "There are, in fact, a few rare cases among our kind who have had enough potential magical talent to be invited before. And now my Vladdy is one of them!"

A part of Vlad was dismayed to hear that there was something that made him even further from normal. It just wasn't bad enough that he was a born vampire, but now he was on par with a wizard?

Yet another part of him was a little excited. Growing up with mythical creatures as family had depleted a lot of the marvel surrounding the tales that humans thought fiction but Vlad was finally experiencing that astonishment. With the realization that non-vampiric magic, wands, and wizards were real, he was experiencing the amazement of the unknown. That, and the all-important fact that wizards were not inherently evil and thirsty for blood.

At least, not from what he had heard. And if there were a place to find the cure to his vampirism, it would be with other magical beings that weren't consumed with their evil. It seemed as if his father would be dead-set on sending him to this magical school and maybe this had been the chance he had been waiting for. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad decision to agree with his father for once.

The Count Dracula scanned the letter again, a blissful smile of pride on his face. "Well, there's no time to lose! When does school start for you then?"

"It's not until September," Vlad said. "According to the letter, they need a reply confirming that I will be attending and we need to acquire the materials needed."

Ingrid gave them both a look of complete bewilderment. "You guys are serious about this? You're going to go to some random school that dropped off a letter by owl claiming that it's a school for magic?"

"Go talk to yourself, Ingrid," their father waved away. "Vladdy and I have a letter of confirmation to write!"

Vlad's sister disappeared into her room clearly irritated beyond comprehension while his father took the liberty of elegantly penning down on ancient parchment that yes, his son would be attending. Vlad had a moment of misgiving and realized that if he truly did not want to attend, now would be the time to refuse. But again, would he ever find a better source for a cure? The chance to escape immortality stayed Vlad's tongue and he could only wince a little at the red ink his father favored; sometimes he thought it really was blood as the Count claimed it to be. In a matter of minutes, the owl was gone out the window with a new letter strapped to its leg.

Vlad watched it disappear over the horizon and wondered whether the bird actually flew that entire distance or if it utilized magic some way to travel faster. His eyes lingered on the scenery for a moment more before he moved to return back to his room. It seemed a little unreal: now he was going to attend a school for wizards.

When his father's strong grip kept him place, he jerked his head up in surprise. "Dad?"

"Oh, where are you going? There's no point in waiting! Let's get your supplies now."

Vlad blinked before glancing back out the window to make sure he was seeing things right. "Dad, the sun is still out."

"So?"

"Dad, you're a vampire. You _can't_ go out in sunlight, remember?"

The Count scoffed. "Oh, no, Vlad. Did you think we were going to go to some plebian market out in the sunlight? Don't be ridiculous, my boy. Thousands of years of vampires roaming this planet and you really don't think we have our own, wonderfully sunlight-free plaza of stores established?"

"But…you've never been there before and you've never told us about it."

"Oh, of course I have. Plenty of times. Where do you think I buy the coffins and the blood bottles I have stored?"

It was at times like this Vlad was unsettlingly reminded that his father, although a bit oblivious most of the time, was still a part of an entirely inhuman community and more than capable of conducting his affairs without the very people living in his home knowing about it. Vlad had always assumed his father only flew out at night to hunt but clearly that was not the case.

Vlad shifted uncomfortably and sighed in resignation. "How do we get there?"

An unsettling glint entered his father's eyes as he toothily grinned. "How else do vampires travel?"

"Please tell me we're not turning into bats; I can't even turn into one yet. How –" Vlad let out a rather undignified yelp as his father abruptly gripped his forearm and he had only a moment to realize what was about to happen before they disappeared in a blur.

Flitting was undoubtedly the worst form of travel ever known to mankind…or undead kind. It was like running at 100 times light speed, or as close as you could get. It just wasn't natural for his living, breathing form. For the longest seconds of his life, it seemed as if his lungs were being crushed and his skin was taut against his skinny frame. Vlad felt as if his body was about to tear apart and fly away with the speed they were going at. The only reason why he didn't lose his father along the way was because his father was the one gripping him and not the other way around. The experience couldn't have lasted more than a mere five seconds, which, for a vampire, was actually quite a while.

Vlad collapsed against his father's strong frame and struggled to gather his limbs for a few moments when they stopped. He took in a grateful breath of air and grimaced at the motion.

"I understand that it was an uncomfortable experience, Vladdy. But we won't do it often and you're actually dealing with it rather well. I've heard horror stories from several of the others when they had to deal with their children at this age. Ugh! Thank goodness you have the Dracula strength. It wouldn't be pleasant if you released your stomach's contents now would it?"

It felt as if Vlad just might do exactly that for the briefest of seconds but then it did settle down and he was more or less back to normal. Once he could look around, he straightened and ran his eyes over the new location. It was dark, a series of caves and entwining passageways that provided the perfect cover from the sunlight. Floating candles magically lit displayed the paths to follow and the many shops that Vlad could just barely decipher hidden in the cavern walls. It seemed like the perfect bat liar with a great crowd of vampires shuffling about to complete the picture.

"Isn't it marvelous?" the Count crowed. "We normally don't bother showing our younger ones the Chamber Plaza until after their full transformation but you are obviously an exception, my boy. Here, vampires can gather and take part in some good haggling and the occasional duel in the streets."

In Vlad's point of view, this was just another reason why he needed to get his things and leave as quickly as possible. The entire place screamed the complete opposite of normality and the darkness just seemed to make the entire atmosphere seem depressing and rather chilly. It made him uncomfortable to be wearing bright orange and blue in a place like this; he stuck out like a sore thumb.

"So, where to first?" Vlad hastily asked. He could see the beginning of another boasting lecture about the greatness of vampires.

The Count was immediately focused. "Ah, yes." He reached into his cloak and extracted the school letter to read. "It says here we need to get you a cauldron – for Potions! Marvelous! I know just the place!" And the man was off in a hurry, leaving Vlad to quickly scrabble after his excited father.

_Aramastus' Loathsome Supplies_ was hardly the place Vlad was hoping to see but what else could have expected from a virtual vampire shopping complex? He tried not to show his distaste when his father dragged him inside.

The interior was no less dreary than the exterior had been. There was only a single, lit candle to see by and there was an immediate smell of dust and decay. Spider webs covered any surface available and there was literally not a single spot where there wasn't dust or some sort of grime. Vlad sighed and was painfully reminded of what his own home looked like.

"Aramastus!" his father bellowed. "I see you've decorated the place! Is that an extra tarantula I see there?"

To Vlad's surprise, a man not much older than twenty-five came out from behind the store's counter. His face was the typical pale of a vampire and his eyes as black as his face was white but he seemed neat and poised. "It is good to see you again, Count Dracula. And indeed. I appreciate that my efforts have not gone to waste. Her name is Arianna."

Vlad's father hummed. "A very pleasant name. I had one like her once. Pity my brute of a servant killed her."

"I am sorry for your loss. But please, let us not dwell on sad tidings. What brings you here today?"

A proud look encompassed the Count's face and Vlad barely had time to steel himself for the second time that day as his father pulled him forward proclaiming, "My son has been invited to study with the wizards. We will be needing the supplies written here." He held out the letter.

Aramastus looked nothing short of astonished as he grasped the parchment. "Another? Isn't this the second in your family line?"

"My Vladimir has always been special. How could he not be, being my son and heir?"

"I am impressed, sir. Very impressed. He must have great magical potential to be invited by the wizards."

Vlad's father seemed to preen under the praise as if he were the one being complimented. Vlad, meanwhile, tried not to shrink in on himself with embarrassment.

"I will be able to provide the cauldron, the sets of crystal phials, the brass scales, and the telescope. Unfortunately, I do not sell books or suitable attire here but for what I can, I shall provide the very best."

"I can ask for nothing more," the Count imperiously replied. "We will return for them."

Aramastus bowed once before returning the letter and showing them out the store. Vlad was slightly surprised at the blatant respect they had received the entire time and uncomfortably realized that maybe his father wasn't joking when he said he was the Prince of Darkness. His father had always ranted about how their family was one of the oldest and purest but Vlad had never truly listened well enough to understand how respected they were.

"Clothes next, Vladdy. I'll drop you off and then pick up your books for you while they take your measurements and make you a new wardrobe."

Vlad spluttered, "An entirely new _wardrobe_? Dad, I only need school attire."

"I will not have my son going to school with nothing less than the best. We can't have those breathing wizards look better, now can we? They might have magic and I give them that much but, really, they need a _stick_ to channel their magic and they still _breathe_."

"Dad, I still breathe."

"But that will change in five years," his father cheerfully replied. "And then you'll be a proper vampire."

The reminder set Vlad back into a morose mood. If he couldn't find a cure in five years…

_Drusilla's and Tessa's _seemed harmless enough. It was completely black with the typical crimson trimmings but at least the interior was clean and there were no spiders or skulls staring Vlad down. The vampiresses seemed nice enough as well when they emerged from the back; they were twin sisters who immediately took to doting upon the "little vampire". The minute they heard the name Dracula, they took Vlad back and set off on their job with an efficiency that Vlad had only ever seen in his mother's eye when she was out to manipulate his father again.

His father spoke with the vampiresses for a few moments, explaining what he needed and desired for his son. But he spent considerably less time conversing with them as he had with Aramastus – something Vlad had a sneaking suspicion had to do with the fact that the sisters were female.

"Isn't this exciting?" Drusilla cooed. "You're going to make your father so proud."

"A wizard school!" Tessa exclaimed as she measured his waist. "They're so secretive with all of their magical hoshposh. It's rather presumptive of them to only invite the most powerful of us and rather counterproductive too. If they wanted to protect their secrets so much why give it to the ones that can use it best against them?"

"Don't be daft, they only teach it to the most powerful of us that way the rest won't be able to do the same," Drusilla sighed. "Oh, Vladimir, dear, you really should eat more. You seem so small for your age."

The good part of the next four hours – and he wasn't joking when he said four hours – continued as such. The two sisters prattled on as if he weren't there and shooed away the occasional shopper. That was perfectly fine with Vlad, actually. He would have had no idea how to reply to some of the fashion related questions they fired at each other and even less about the latest vampire gossip. Those were the two things he fought hardest to avoid in his life. The only downfall to the entire experience was the fact that his arms ached after so long, he quickly grew bored with nothing to do but stand as a model, and suffered the piercing several times by needles gone astray which oftentimes resulted in the two sisters glancing surreptitiously at the blood that escaped.

As the sisters were finishing up the last touches of their measurements and fabric decisions, Vlad's father came bursting into the store with gigantic bags of purchased goods in his arms. "Vladdy! Look what I've got for you!"

Vlad was just glad to see his ticket to escape. "Dad, did it really take you that long to find the books?"

"I stopped back at Aramastus' and no, I did not just purchase the books listed," scoffed the Count. He stuck his hand into one of the bags and extracted one book that definitely did not seem school approved.

"_The Keys to Hypnotism?"_ Vlad read incredulously. "Dad, I'm not going to vampire school. I'm going to a school for magic."

"And what, exactly, is the difference?" his father asked. "We have magic too, Vladdy. Most just don't take the time to refine it or have the strength like us Draculas have to control it. Now that you're going to study with the wizards, I figured why not start early on your vampiric magical studies!"

Vlad groaned as they exited the store with the sisters promising to have the entire wardrobe finished in a matter of days. He glanced over at his father carrying all of the bags and couldn't help but grin a little at the ridiculous picture he painted. A regal vampire, dressed in dark robes, hauling shopping bags like he was on a spree.

As they passed through the passageways, Vlad became aware of the many eyes trailing him and his father. Most here did not wear the expensive robes his father owned and Vlad had a feeling his glaringly bright attire did little to make them any less conspicuous. It was unsettling to feel so many gazes upon him and the occasional whisper of "Dracula" caught his ears.

Not all of the gazes were just curious. Some of the younger vampires lingered upon Vlad specifically and he wondered why before he finally noticed how they were looking at his _neck._ Born vampire or not, he still had blood pumping within his veins and a pulse to entice those hungry.

His father strode along confidently as if nothing was the matter. Vlad wasn't surprised; his father reveled in the attention, lived off of it. The Count did, however, stick close to his son and many of the thirsty vampires around them did not miss the strong hand resting upon Vlad's shoulder. They knew better than to act upon their desires; everybody knew that one touch to the still-breathing children of vampires resulted in a gruesome protective reaction from the parents.

"Is our last stop for my wand?" Vlad finally asked to break the silent tension that had accumulated.

The Count gave him a scandalized look. "A wand? Good garlic, Vladdy, no! Vampires do not need a _wand_!"

"Then how am I supposed to use my magic?"

"All in good time, my boy, all in good time."

Their final stop ended at _Dante's Miscellaneous Trinkets – Since As Long As Anybody Can Remember_. This particular store seemed like your average run-down shack that in no way depicted the normal vampire taste for the extravagant and baroque. In a way, it soothed Vlad a bit to see how it differed but nothing could truly come from such a store; it seemed like a place for shady dealings.

The moment they stepped inside, one of the oldest vampires Vlad had ever met was fiddling with something that looked to be long rod of wood. The man's hair was a piercing white and his eyes bugged out through the looking lenses that he utilized to stare at the rod. He didn't appear as if he noticed the two of them walk in, but, for once, his father did not cough or act for the older vampire's attention.

They patiently waited until the old man glanced up and twitched violently, dropping the rod. "In the name of blood and garlic!" he cursed. "Don't sneak up on me like that, Dracula!"

The Count raised an eyebrow. "I hope you're aware that we've been standing here for a good five minutes."

The man squinted. "Really? You're not pulling my fang are you?"

Vlad stifled a chuckle at the man's obliviousness and quickly found himself being skewered by the old gaze.

"Ah…is this your young one?"

"Indeed," his father said with no small amount of pride.

"Don't tell me," Dante said with a hand up. "Another wizard-worthy?"

If his father's ego could have inflated any more than it already had, Vlad was sure it would have exploded by now. "He will be beginning this September."

Dante wheezed out a laugh. "It's a little early still – it's still July is it not? – but I can understand your eagerness. I presume you have come for my father's things?"

Vlad frowned. "Your father's things?"

"Indeed, boy. My father too was once invited as you were."

Vlad's eyebrows shot up in surprise but then he quickly said, "Oh, wait. I wouldn't want to take anything that once belonged to your father. That wouldn't be fair to you."

Dante laughed once again. "Oh dear, Count. Seems you've got a _polite _one here! I haven't seen a polite Dracula in centuries. You've got quite a bit of work to fix that up."

"There's nothing wrong with being polite," Vlad muttered to himself.

The older vampire obviously heard the comment. "No, it is not at times and perhaps your father could learn a thing or two from you."

Before the Count could retort, Dante disappeared into the back storage room. It was only a few moments before the man came back out with an engraved box in his hands. "Here they are." When Vlad only stared in confusion, the man motioned for him to come closer. "Come on, it's not going to bite."

Vlad tentatively walked to the counter and looked at the box. It seemed old but definitely not nearly as old as some of the relics stored in his family's castle. It seemed perfectly dusted and symbols Vlad didn't recognize covered every inch of it. He peered up at Dante once for approval before slowly reaching up and grasping the lid.

When he had removed the top, he peered inside and nestled among purple velvet lay a single silver bangle with a blood-red gem impressed into the metal.

"It's a conductor, boy," Dante said. "Vampires cannot use wands. We do not channel our magic as wizards do. Wizards too can do what they call 'wandless' magic but for vampires, all of our magic is wandless. Our own blood, especially of those born a vampire, acts as our conductors and we are more in tune with the ambient magic around us. Seeing as you're not exactly a full vampire yet just as my father was when he was invited, conductors such as this one allow a premature vampire to access their magic – only if there is enough magic in the blood for the conductor to detect. That is why only vampires noticed by the wizards are capable of using them." The old man shrugged. "Or so my father once told me."

Vlad fingered the silver bangle with a hint of apprehension. He felt something already tugging at him to take it, put it on. But he controlled himself and looked up. "Are there a lot of them?"

"Hardly," Dante replied. "Not very many vampires have ever had need of conductors. Almost all wait until their transformation because what are a few years wait compared to an eternity with magic? Only those invited to study with wizards ever make use of it. I do not know exactly how many exist but I doubt there would be more than the number of fingers on my left hand."

Vlad couldn't help but notice how two fingers seemed to missing from the vampire's left hand.

"Thank you for your assistance," his father suddenly said. Vlad jumped a little; he had forgotten his father was there. "But we must be going now. I worry about what my servant, Renfield, is getting up to back at home. Come, Vladimir."

Vlad hastily closed the lid back on the box and hauled it under his arm as his father quickly handed over a bag that held who-knew-how-many coins inside. Dante bowed once and then the two of them were back out in the caverns.

Vlad was a little surprised that his father did not immediately offer his arm to depart. He peered up curiously and saw the Count smiling down at him. "What is it, Dad?"

"You were right. It didn't take me that long to pick books out earlier."

Now he was confused. "So what were you doing?"

Almost out of nowhere, his father pulled out one of the many bags he was carrying and promptly extracted a cage. It was indeed one of the pets that the letter had mentioned was allowed but what surprised Vlad the most was that it was not a gigantic spider or a bat. Inside, there was only a single black kitten blinking up blearily in the light. The only strange thing about it was the strange dichotomy in eye color, one electric blue and the other striking emerald.

Vlad smiled at the gift and said, "Wow, Dad…this is…"

"Wonderful?" his father prompted smugly.

"It is," the younger vampire smiled. He was more surprised and flattered that it was not some strange creature with ten limbs. It meant that perhaps his father really was listening when his son declared he wanted some normalcy. "Thank you."

The Count seemed to pick up on his son's sincerity and he returned the smile before awkwardly shuffling the kitten and its cage back in its bag before finally extending his arm, pointedly looking away as if embarrassed.

"Got a good grip on everything, Vladdy?" his father asked.

Vlad laughed a little and quickly shoved the box holding his magic conductors into one of the bags his father was holding before they disappeared.

~0~

"Did you have a good trip today, Master Vlad?" Zoltan asked as Vlad hauled the last of his new things up into his room.

Vlad huffed out, dropping the last bag heavily on the floor. His father had immediately left the task up to him to take care of the new purchases before claiming that it was evening and that he would like to feast upon a few Breathers before heading to bed. His new pet had been promptly placed in its own secluded area for the time being with an actual bowl of decent milk that Vlad had somehow managed to find in Renfield's storage of goods.

"It was decent, I guess. The Chamber Plaza seemed perfect for…vampires."

"It must have been exciting," Zoltan smiled, misunderstanding as he usually did.

Vlad sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Just looking at some of the ingredients that came with his Potions kit reminded of the lab Renfield ran down in his own quarters and that did little enforce his idea that wizards just might be a tad more normal than vampires. At least they still walked out in sunlight and did not drink blood.

His eyes scanned his room to settle for the hundredth time before they settled on the box…again. The entire time he had been unpacking, he couldn't quite get the conductor out of his head. Vlad bit his lip and walked over to pick it up. The wood felt grainy and it was only slightly heavy, hardly something that he would think to carry a rare magical object. Vlad carried it to his bed and leaned back into his pillows. His eyes roamed the engravings and he traced the patterns, memorizing as he went.

"Master Vlad?" Zoltan inquired, looking at the box. "Is that…?"

Vlad grinned. "I guess you could call it my wand. At least, until I hit sixteen." But what if he came across a cure? Would he still be able to use magic if he kept this bangle? That didn't sound so bad: a mortal life with the perks of magic.

He took off the lid and again stared at the silver. His fingers delicately picked up the cold object and shuddered as it seemed to warm under his touch. Looking closely, he could see tiny ridges along the entire band and similar runes that were on the box. The gem itself seemed hypnotizing, pulling him into its depths. Almost without thinking, he raised the bangle and neatly slid it into place on his left forearm.

"Master Vlad, what are you –"

There was a blinding flash of crimson light as the gem flared once and the hellhound yelped before closing his eyes. Vlad too instinctively covered his eyes with his right arm but he could feel the band's power, its magic pulling and tugging at Vlad's own. What had been dormant now held open rein to rage through his body and he gasped at the magnitude of it. Did all vampires feel this when they Turned? Did they all feel as if they were being overwhelmed and _stifled_ by the pure strength of it all? For a moment Vlad felt as if he was losing himself, as if his blood was taking over and he would be forever lost. But then the bangle flared once more and the onslaught was brutally cut off, just the right amount left simmering under his skin and ready for use.

Vlad was panting heavily, his face slick with sweat and his limbs sprawled on his bed. He felt both drained and empowered at the same time. There was a small amount of relief to feel that his heart still beat and he was mortal as ever; a part of him had feared that this might have taken it too far and Turned him too early.

"My goodness!" exclaimed Zoltan. "I swear that was almost as blinding as the sausage!"

Vlad blinked and giggled. "Sausage?"

"You know your father forbade me from saying the 's' word. He hates the light it emits."

Vlad giggled again and drunkenly repeated, "Sausage."

The hellhound frowned and furrowed his furry brow as he looked closer at his young charge. "Are you…alright, Master Vlad?"

"It's funny how you say sausage, Zoltan," the young vampire grinned a little too widely. "I bet if we went down to the village now, they'd all laugh too.

An irritated thumping of boots signified Ingrid's incoming presence. She whipped her head through the door and snapped out, "Hey, wimp. Dad wants to know what the stupid flash of light up here was."

Vlad giggled again and waved his hands in some indecipherable attempt at portraying his words. "It's sort of ticklish."

Ingrid froze in her snappish reply and raised one eyebrow. "What's wrong with you?"

Zoltan sighed and shook his head. "It seems as if putting on the conductor has made young Master Vlad…"

"High?"

The hellhound pondered a moment before nodding. "It does seem so."

* * *

**Haha...well this one is definitely longer than the last :) It just kind of made sense to put the whole trip in one chapter. ****I'm just having too much fun with this. **

**And haha...the sausage. I always did find Zoltan's substitutes for words like "sun" and "garlic" hilarious. I'm sort of disappointed how he just...DISAPPEARED halfway through season 4. Like, what happened?**

**Till next time!**


	3. Harry Potter

**I do not own anything that will get me sued. **

* * *

**Chapter 3: Harry Potter**

Vlad struggled not to roll his eyes as his father repeated the same directions for the umpteenth time.

"Now, Vladdy, just look into the eyes and allow them to _sink_ into your consciousness…"

"Dad," Vlad interrupted. "I'm supposed to be at the platform in ten minutes. I'm not so sure how another few seconds of hypnotism lessons are going to help."

"He's right, Dad," Ingrid smirked as she crossed her arms. "Maybe there's been a mistake. He's obviously useless at this. You should teach _me_."

Something about his sister had become all the more bitter over the last month before his departure to Hogwarts. In some ways, a small part of Vlad understood why. He had spent a good three days in a stupor of heightened magic power and during that time, he had done a number of fantastic magical feats: lighting up the candles, conjuring balls of flame to float, summoning objects to him, and even once completely fixing a cup he had broken during his high. Even after he had calmed down and using magic had suddenly become much harder, Ingrid seemed to seethe with anger and jealously. This was what she wanted; she had wanted it far longer and far fiercer than Vlad ever had. She was born a vampire and dreamed of being one with all of the power that came with it. Even Vlad could see how unfair it was that the younger child, the peacemaker, the "goody-goody", the _male_ got all of the attention and magic. Vampires were supposed to be vicious, selfish, deceitful, and troublemaking. Ingrid was all of these and more but never once did she receive the respect she believed she deserved.

"Oh, shut up, Ingrid. Can't you see I'm trying to teach my son and heir?"

She let out a frustrated shriek and exited the room shouting, "Fine! See if I care! You can take Vlad to the station alone!"

The Count rolled his eyes at his daughter's outburst and turned back to his son as if nothing of importance had happened. "Now that she's out of the way, I suppose we ought to get going, hm? You're right. Perhaps you can practice on your own at school. And remember, I actually expect you to get…_good_ grades." He shuddered. "Bats, it feels strange to say that. Normally I would ask you to do your absolute worst and make me proud but when it comes to magic, I'm afraid I'm going to have to encourage you to well."

Vlad's grin was a little strained and he tried to push the thought of leaving on such bad terms with his sister for a year. It bothered him, of course, to see her so distressed but it wasn't like he could just walk up there now and help her. She would most likely just blow up upon seeing him again. In many ways, Vlad knew he had suddenly become the very image of everything she hated.

"Now, do you have everything?"

Vlad rummaged through his things. His new kitten, still yet to be named, had been sent ahead already. It was a sort of relief for him because he feared he would lose it in the hustle and bustle.

He was still wearing his normal, bright human attire today despite his father's pleads and his robes were neatly packed in his trunk for later changing into. His materials were in his trunk and a bag mixed with silver, copper, and gold coins was tied securely to his belt. He glanced once again at the bangle that would adorn his left bicep for the next seven years and gently brushed it with his fingers before looking up at his father and nodding. "It's all here, Dad."

The Count clapped his hands excitedly and grasped the trunk in one hand and his son's arm in the other. Vlad grit his teeth for the split second they were still grounded and the next they were flitting.

It wasn't as bad the third time around. He still felt as if he was about to split a thousand different directions but at least he was now expecting it. When they came to a stop in the middle of a busy platform, he managed to stay securely on his feet and was only dizzy for a few seconds.

"Ugh," his father spat. "It still smells of Breather here, Vladdy. There's magic, of course, but still…_Breather_."

Vlad looked in awe at the gigantic red train proudly awaiting its arrivals. The entire place seemed completely filled with students ranging from all ages eleven to seventeen and parents or siblings that had come along to say goodbye for the year. Many of the older people here wore robes and particularly pointed hats. The attire was no stranger than his father's own archaic style and – in some cases – were even stranger. Finally, he did not stick out with his father by his side. Several of the parents even seemed just as pompous and self-assured of their regality as his father was, which just made the Count seem all the more normal.

Vlad genuinely smiled at the thought. _Normal._ That was a word he never thought he would ever use with his father in the same sentence.

They were still a good five minutes early but Vlad could already see the individual compartments filling up on the train. He quickly turned back to his father, an eager grin finally filling his face as he threw his arms around the Count. For a moment, the elder vampire seemed flustered but then he slowly returned the gesture. It was awkward to say the least but a part of Vlad was completely and blissfully happy in the moment. Normality was something so rare for him and to finally taste it was beautiful.

His father was the first to pull away while saying, "Well, then…I hope you do the Dracula name proud, Vladdy. And as much as you should do well in your classes, don't forget to get yourself in _some_ sort of trouble. I expect great things from you!"

Vlad smiled in return and grasped his trunk. "Thanks, Dad. See you next year!"

As soon as he had said his part, Vlad was scrambling towards the nearest entrance on to the train. He hauled his heavy trunk up the small steps and managed not to drop it or trip along the way. As he passed through the small passageway, his eyes roamed the windows, searching for some empty spaces or groups that seemed open for one more. The further he traveled back, the more his hopes were beginning to dampen but he continued because, at last, this seemed like something a normal child did.

Right when Vlad was nearing the last of the compartments, he finally saw one that was not filled to the brim. He gratefully reached forward and tugged open the door.

"Hello," he said, suddenly shy. He had only learned English recently and he knew that he still must have a Romanian lilt to his speech. "The other compartments were busy, you see, and I was wondering if I could…?"

"Oh, of course," smiled the other boy just as shyly. His mop of completely unruly black hair was the complete opposite of Vlad's own naturally obedient locks and his eyes glittered an almost unnaturally bright green. Vlad might have almost called them pretty had there not been a pair of ancient glasses obscuring them.

"Thanks," Vlad said in relief. "I was beginning to worry that I would have to sit outside."

The other boy laughed and held out a hand as Vlad settled into the seat across. "I'm Harry Potter."

_Potter…a Noble name._ Good garlic, he was starting to sound like his father. "Nice to meet you, I'm Vlad Dracula."

A queer expression crossed Harry's face at the introduction and a small quirk touched his lips. "Dracula? Like the novel?"

Vlad blinked and then his eyebrows creased in a question of his own. "You don't think he exists?"

"Am I supposed to?"

Could it really be? Could it be that not all wizards knew that Dracula was a real person, a real name? Could it be that wizards didn't know that vampires existed at all? He would have thought magical beings knew of other magical beings but apparently not.

"The name Dracula…" Vlad began.

"I read the book," Harry grinned. "But I'm new to the Wizarding World; I grew up with my Muggle aunt and uncle. Are there actually vampires here?"

It was a good thing Vlad had read the introductory books before coming otherwise he would not have known what a Muggle was. What he _hadn't_ read was whether vampires were well known here or not. Perhaps if he could hide it…

The compartment door abruptly burst open before Vlad could reply and the doorway was suddenly blocked by the reddest blob of hair and a face more filled with freckles than any other he had ever seen.

"Hi, I'm Ron. Ron Weasley. Do you guys have some room? I don't want to get stuck with my twin brothers; they're a right pain in the neck when they want to do some of their magical tricks."

Perhaps it was the way Vlad had grown up or perhaps it was just a part of the nature he had picked up from his genes, but something about Ron came across as a bit distasteful. Vlad winced at how snobbish the thought sounded but he couldn't help but think it again as he ran his eyes over the disheveled clothes and hurried air. Harry at least had an excuse. Ron sounded like he knew plenty about magic already if his brothers were already using it. His entire life, Vlad had been taught how to speak, stand, eat, and behave properly should the occasion arise. He blatantly ignored the majority of the statutes he learned, even taking the liberties to appear just as sloppy as the redhead did, but years and years of it had embedded some of those values into him.

Harry nodded once before the redhead sprawled himself on to the seat beside Vlad and smiled. "Hey, um…Sorry for intruding like this but you know how it goes…"

It didn't seem like Ron was a bad person, quite the opposite actually. He genuinely seemed to mean well but it was just the manner he carried himself that set Vlad on edge. "No, no," he hastily said in an effort to shove away his thoughts. "It's no problem."

Rob smiled gratefully before asking, "I suppose I've already introduced myself. Who are you?"

"I'm Vlad." He refrained from saying his last name. "And this is Harry."

The newcomer cocked his head at the word 'Harry' and he scrutinized the spectacled boy in the opposite seat before gasping, "You're Harry Potter!"

If the human face could mimic a tomato, Vlad had a feeling Harry's would have done exactly that. "Yea, I am."

"Can I see the – the –"

Harry tersely smiled and pulled back his bangs to reveal a thin, lightning-bolt shaped scar.

Ron guffawed and burst into praise and exclamations about how _amazing _this was and how Harry had _taken down a Dark Lord._ Vlad furrowed his eyebrows at the statements for a few moments in confusion before something in his memory finally clicked. This was _the_ Harry Potter, the first and only person to have ever survived the Killing Curse and the vanquisher of the Lord Voldemort. When Vlad had first read that in the _Modern History of Wizardry_, he had been dismayed to discover that there was, in fact, a dark side to the wizarding world. That, more than anything else, had disappointed him because he had been hoping to avoid anything even remotely close to such a thing; it reminded him too much of his vampire heritage. He had been upset enough to just skim over Harry's name and it hadn't really occurred to him that he might be attending the same school in the same year as the famous boy.

As Ron and Harry carried on to converse about Quidditch, the train began to move, shifting away from the platform and out into the countryside. As they passed through the station, Vlad glanced out his window and noticed with a slight smile that his father was still there, waving at every single window in hopes of saying one last goodbye to his "Vladdy". It was only when his father disappeared from view did he turn his mind back to the conversation at hand.

"I hope I get into Gryffindor," Ron was saying. "Best House there is, you know. My whole family's been in it. I wouldn't mind Ravenclaw though and maybe Hufflepuff at worst but I would rather kill myself than end up in Slytherin." The redhead shuddered.

Vlad frowned. From what he had read, Gryffindor was the House of the Brave and Honorable, Ravenclaw the House of the Curious and Intelligent, Hufflepuff the House of the Hardworking and Loyal, and Slytherin the House of the Cunning and Resourceful. None of them seemed particularly good or bad but that had been a textbook definition. What set Ron off from Slytherin so much? He certainly hoped it wasn't just prejudiced bigotry. He had enough of that from his family.

Vlad didn't have a chance to ask why Ron abhorred Slytherin before the door opened once again.

"I heard Harry Potter was on the train," said a boy with frighteningly white blonde hair. "Is it true?"

Two larger goons seemed to materialize behind the boy as Harry exclaimed, "You were the boy at Madame Malkins!"

The blonde shrugged. "Perhaps. But is it true? Are you Harry Potter?"

Harry hesitated at the brusque question but then he nodded wordlessly. A wary look now covered the celebrity's face.

"You're Draco Malfoy!" Ron interrupted, completely oblivious to the tension that had suddenly oppressed the cabin. "I've heard of _you_."

Draco directed his gaze to the redhead and a sneer of disdain marred his lips. "Let me guess: red hair, hand-me-down clothes…you must be a _Weasley_." He turned to Harry. "I see you're getting yourself tangled up with the wrong kind. I could help you there, if you know what I mean." He extended his hand in a pompous gesture and stood waiting.

Vlad had seen this kind before. In fact, this was the _only_ kind of person he had only ever known in his life. Arrogant and high-nosed to a fault. But as much as Vlad abhorred such attitudes, he had learned that there was often reason behind such attitudes. One did not just simply portray such a superior picture if there wasn't something – no matter how small – that indicated such a thing could be true. Only a completely insane or stupid person would carry themselves in such a manner and not some guarantee that they had something to back up their claims.

It didn't come as a surprise when the defeater of the Dark Lord scowled and snapped, "I think I can tell the right sort for myself."

The Malfoy cheeks reddened at the complete rebuff and an angry frown now tilted his lips downwards. "Fine, then. I see what kind of lot you've thrown yourself into and don't say that I didn't warn you when you had the chance to escape them." He ran a condescending glance down at Ron and then, for the first time, ran his gaze over Vlad. There was a brief flash of surprise and at what he saw but then the same downgrading look clouded it. "Let me guess, that's another product of Mudblood filth."

Vlad bristled at the insult and retorted, "I don't think you're in the position to say anything. You do not know me."

"What does it matter?" the blonde sneered. It was just as disdainful as it had been when he had been speaking to the redhead, but Vlad could detect a slight easing of the ferocity of it. Something told him that Draco had enjoyed taunting Ron, but was forcing this confrontation, as if he was only insulting Vlad out of obligation. "You choose to associate with trash; you _are _trash."

Vlad had spent enough time around bullies like this. He couldn't even remember how many times he had come across other pompous vampire children during his younger years when his father was still trying to get him to associate with the "better kind." (His father had ceased those efforts after Vlad had tried to make friends with a Breather down in the village when he had been six.) The only way to stop Draco's impression that he could push Vlad around was to retaliate harshly the first time.

"Well, better that than being a result of _inbreeding_. Aren't your parents cousins? At least I'm not destined to be a defective like you will be." He could see the amazed gapes from his peripheral vision as Harry and Ron stared at the audacity of his words. Or maybe they had not known the truth and were just shocked to hear the news. At their expressions, it struck Vlad that perhaps he should not have said something quite so vindictive. He had seen more than his fair share of incest among the vampires and the insult was hardly one to blink at for him but he had heard somewhere that relations among the related were more abhorred among humans.

A strange look lit Draco's eyes and he swiftly turned with a flush tingeing the base of his neck. "Come Goyle, Crabbe. We shouldn't associate with the filth any more than we need to."

The way the previously stubborn and unmoving snob had given up, Vlad had a horrible feeling in his chest that perhaps he had said something too inconsiderate. He wanted to stand up and tell the blond that he was sorry and that he hadn't meant for it to be quite so mean but the trio were gone and out the cabin before Vlad could act upon his impulse. Ron and Harry sat in silence upon their departure and the young vampire bit his lips. This wasn't what he had been aiming for at all. Even when trying to be good, Vlad had absorbed some of his family's natural cruelty.

Ron awkwardly coughed into his sleeve and Harry tersely glanced out the window. Vlad watched them for a while, silently begging them to talk again or do anything to indicate that this wasn't something unforgivable. It was to his great relief when Ron finally and tentatively asked, "Was that true?"

Vlad had the answer upon his lips and was about to say that it was true but he stilled his tongue. If it was something to be ashamed of, he certainly didn't want to further humiliate Draco even if the boy wasn't there. He had seen how Ron disliked the blond and realized that if he did tell the truth, the redhead might "accidentally" let the information slip in anger in the future.

"No, it wasn't," Vlad replied morosely. "I just had to say something back, you know?" The lie tasted sour in his mouth despite the good purpose it was being used for. No, this was not how he wanted to begin his school year. How was it possible that just a few minutes ago he had been exuberant and normalcy had been within his reach?

Harry frowned at the out at the scenery. "It wasn't very nice of you to say that, then."

Vlad felt a flush of shame color his cheeks and he muttered back, "I'm sorry."

Harry absorbed the apology and then he turned to look at the vampire in the eye and gave a small smile. "It's okay. That Draco was a right prat anyway, saying we were all trash."

Ron shifted in place and fumbled with his jacket for a moment. "Even if it wasn't true, it really got Malfoy out the door."

Vlad shrugged and licked his lips. The once calm and carefree atmosphere had abruptly taken a chillier turn. Neither of the other two seemed all that willing to speak to him after what he had said. The very idea that he had begun on such bad footing set Vlad's nerves on edge and he wanted nothing more than to rub himself hard as if to scrub away his mistake. That had been so stupid of him. How could he allow himself to slip like that already?

The discomfort in the air suddenly seemed too oppressive. Vlad hastily muttered some excuse and exited the cabin. In his hurry, he accidentally shut the door too harshly behind him and he winced as several other students idling in the passing way glanced over. His lips thinned at his clumsiness and he determinedly stared at the floor as he shot a beeline away from the area.

Vlad had no idea where he was going. The only thing he knew was that he just needed some time to collect himself. Associating with other people was a lot harder than he had thought. Just one wrong statement and everything as suddenly wrong. He let out a heavy sigh and paused at a section of the cart where fewer occupied the space. Vlad pressed his forehead against the glass window and unseeingly looked at the passing greenery. It seemed as if they were passing through some countryside and a lake glittered just a little ways off to the left, but nature's beauty held little hold over the young vampire. He had more pressing concerns like the impending death of his dream of a normal school year.

Vlad yelped and jumped on the spot when something small and slimy abruptly tickled his neck. Whatever brooding thoughts occupying his mind disappeared as he glanced down and realized that a _toad_ was placidly settling itself into the crook of his neck.

"Trevor!" exclaimed a voice down the hall and Vlad looked up to see a stocky boy come dashing up to him. "You found Trevor!"

Vlad grinned slightly. "Well, I guess he found me."

"I've been looking for him for ages!" the other boy smiled. "Who knows what my Gran would have said if she found out that I lost my familiar the first few hours on the train?"

"It's a good thing you found him then."

The boy awkwardly bobbed his head in agreement before tentatively saying, "My name is Neville, by the way."

"Nice to meet you. My name is Vladimir but I prefer Vlad."

A head full of bushy, brown hair suddenly popped its way into the middle of their introductions and a girl's voice proclaimed, "Well my name is Hermione Granger and it's a great thing you found Neville's toad. It was beginning to look a little hopeless there."

Vlad looked in bewilderment at the rapid-fire interruption and he managed to smile weakly before replying, "Um…well, like I said: I didn't really do anything. Trevor came to me."

"That's fantastic," Hermione said distractedly. "Now that you've found your pet, Neville, let's get back to the cabin. I bet we missed the food trolley already and I really want to practice a few more spells just in case the professors decide to give us all a pop quiz when we arrive."

The two were gone in a matter of seconds, Neville casting one last apologizing glance over his shoulder as the overbearing girl dragged him away.

Vlad blinked once at the oddity of that meeting before a burble of laughter slipped past his lips. Who would have ever thought that his trip to school would end up like this? A toad was certainly a peculiar animal to select as a lifelong companion. And by the looks of the poor thing, it seemed as if the amphibian hadn't been that keen on spending time with Neville anyway.

The next hour or so, Vlad just stayed in place, partially hoping that some strange occurrence would happen again. But the time dragged by and eventually he mustered up the courage to return to the cabin with Harry and Ron. He had to steel himself as he stood in front of the sliding door and it took him a whole five minutes just to grasp the handle. Rejection and repulsion were not exactly things he was looking forward to but if it came to that, he would deal with it and leave. Honestly, Vlad had no choice but to return considering he had left his trunk inside.

The moment he opened the door, whatever conversation the two had been holding stopped. It appeared as if Harry and Ron had been gorging themselves on a large pile of sweets and by the manner with which they were sitting, it was obvious that they had furthered their friendship. A smile was just dying on both of their faces.

Ron was the first to recover. "Oh, you're back! It's a good thing because I was beginning to think I would have to go after you."

Doubtful, but Vlad took the statement for what it was. He wasn't stupid enough to dwell too long on it. He forced a smile and replied, "I sort of got caught up with a few people."

"Tell me about it," the redhead griped. "This bushy girl – Herninny I think she was called? – came in asking about a toad a while back. Then she just had to go and show off and then left. Girls are a right pain, if you ask me." Ron lifted a finger to his nose and asked, "There's nothing on my face right?"

The way Ron's thoughts fluttered from one topic to another left Vlad's head spinning but he dutifully said, "I think there's a little dirt along your nose."

A frown predominated the redhead's expression at the comment but Harry took the time to say, "Really, we're glad you made it back."

Again, doubtful. But if they weren't kicking him out then Vlad was hardly one to complain. He settled a little uncomfortably in the seat opposite the other two and quietly watched. Harry offered a couple of sweets but Vlad declined each time; his father had stuffed him with food in the morning already. As the other two became more accustomed to Vlad's presence in the room, the two fell into light banter about their candies and the possibilities of the upcoming year still sprinkled with the occasional mention of Quidditch. The young vampire managed a comment in here and there but ultimately, the rest of the trip was a very awkward one for Vlad.

It was almost with relief that Vlad heard the announcement to change into their robes and prepare to arrive at Hogsmeade.

~0~

The subsequent trip up to the massive castle had continued to be less than pleasant for Vlad. He had trailed Harry and Ron the majority of the time on to the boat and up the stairs to wait outside the Main Hall and silently stood to the side as Ron engaged Draco in yet another confrontation. The squabble was quickly extinguished as their Transfigurations professor and Gryffindor Head of House appeared and it was only then that Vlad allowed himself to gape at the enchanted hall. It had been breathtaking, something that finally showed him that coming here hadn't been a mistake. He had lost Harry and Ron in the crowd on their way in but he did not worry too much about it. There was almost a sense of reprieve when he was finally alone again. The two weren't bad people. Harry seemed welcoming if a little shy and withdrawn. Ron was boisterous and pulled Harry out of his shell but there was something to be said about his need to learn control. There was nothing wrong with them; Vlad just didn't mingle well with the two. The three of them didn't quite click.

So Vlad was standing alone amidst the crowd and prepared when the professor called out, "Dracula, Vladimir!"

There wasn't a stir in the hall at the name with the exception of the few muggleborns who had actually read the book that had made his father famous. It again made Vlad notice that most didn't know the Draculas actually existed and that piece of information was a comfort. Now others wouldn't have to be revolted or wary of him just because he had been born a vampire. They wouldn't have to know and would never have to know if Vlad had any say in it.

He walked up, trying not to show the anxiety that gripped him. As he settled on to the chair and gripped the edges of the seat with his fingertips, the professor plopped the worn hat on to his head and he was hit with the realization that the hat's brim was a little wide for his head. It covered most of his forehead and half of his eyes.

_Oh. Interesting._

Vlad immediately flinched at the words in his mind. He couldn't quite eradicate the apprehensive and instinctive twitch of his fingers. It wasn't normal for him to hear voices in his head unless it was his parents'. It was vampire etiquette not to do telepathic communication unless it was completely necessary or invited.

_Ah…I see __such__ potential. But that is to be expected; you would not have been invited otherwise, no?_

He didn't like it, this voice. If it could "see" potential, what else could it see?

_So distrustful…and I see you are clever as well. You are different from your family – kind almost to a fault. But you aren't above your manipulations either, hm? Using your father's favoritism at times…_

No! It wasn't like that! He had never asked for vampire tradition to be patriarchal and he loved his sister. All of the times his father ignored Ingrid were painful to watch.

_In denial but obviously good at heart. It is what sets you apart from your kind. I assume you would enjoy Hufflepuff the most._

The House of the Hardworking and Loyal. Vlad could work with that. He had nothing against such traits and yellow was a nice, bright color. Hopefully they would be able to help with his search for a cure for his vampirism.

_Personal gain…even your motivations are not completely pure. But your goal is. Where to put you…_

A part – a large part – of Vlad was just desperate for a House he could fit in with. He wanted a House that would allow him to make friends and feel normal for once. Wasn't that the only thing he had ever wanted? The only thing he had ever truly asked for? It didn't matter to him which House so long as he fit.

_I see. Very well then._

Vlad wondered if the hat was really going to say Hufflepuff the split second before its seam opened up to yell the results. It had sounded like the only House the hat had mentioned and considered.

It was with surprise that Vlad heard "Slytherin!" bellowed throughout the hall.

* * *

**Grr...didn't really like how that chapter ended but there it is. I tried fixing it but the thing just wouldn't come to me. So if inspiration hits, I'll be back to word it better.**

**Are you surprised that Vlad ended up in Slytherin? Ignoring the fact that I have a huge bias in favor of the house, I honestly think that deep down, Vlad would end up there. He asked to "fit in" after all. Yes, he is caring and unconditionally kind and forgiving. That is a HUGE part of his character. But if you really see how he behaves throughout the series (i.e. hypnotizing Robin for the girl they both wanted even though he knew it was an unfair advantage, using any means possible to get under his father's nose to find a cure to his vampirism, using his father to see if Ms. Van Hellsing was really mindwiped or not, etc.) he really does have a manipulative streak. It's really subtle and often times unintentional but Vlad does have the talent (and genes) for it. It becomes especially noticeable after he merges with his mirror-self. **

**Anyway that's why I put him in Slytherin. And I contemplated making him friends with Draco but then that would have made his life too easy. So now he's stuck in a house with one other student (with powerful connections) already out for vengeance. Fun stuff!**

**And remember how I said I had this written already at the beginning? Yea, I completely changed a lot of the it. Before, I had Vlad friends with Draco (like I said above) and completely "buddy-buddy" with the snakes. But like I said, that would just make things boring and honestly, it wouldn't be in Vlad's character to befriend arrogant and spiteful people he sees at first anyways.**

**Till next time!**


	4. Slytherins

**I do not own anything that will get me sued.**

**Thank you to all my reviewers! It means a lot :)**

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**Chapter 4: Slytherins**

Vlad had been automatically dismayed to learn that he had landed himself in the most disliked House in the entire school. He hadn't quite had the chance to ask why Ron had hated Slytherin so much before, so Vlad had thought it was just a one-time preference on the redhead's part. Then he had gradually noticed how some of the other Houses – most noticeably the Gryffindor – grimaced or frowned whenever another Slytherin was announced. Vlad hadn't noticed the same reactions for his own Sorting but he had been too preoccupied with making his way to the table without tripping or humiliating himself. Most had probably displayed the same subtle hints of dislike when the hat had named him a part of the snakes.

It was as if Fate had decided to make normalcy impossible for Vlad. The very same boy, Draco, whom he had insulted in the train, was immediately named a part of the same House of Snakes and the subsequent "bodyguards" who had been trailing the blonde followed suit. Vlad watched with growing dismay as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and even Neville made their way over to Gryffindor. What sort of things would the Gryffindors say to those four? Ron was already biased. From the tension he felt from his new House, it was obvious that there was some sort of animosity between the Lions and Snakes.

"Well that was predictable," groused one of the older Slytherins as Harry was named Gryffindor. "His parents were good-for-nothing brutes as well. Of course Potter was going to end up there." There had been a tinge of disappointment in that tone, as if some had been hoping to see the Wizarding World's savior be sorted a snake. Vlad wondered if Harry really would have had that much influence, to change the tides of prejudice had he been Sorted differently.

By the time the last of the students were Sorted, Headmaster Dumbledore – "the old coot" Vlad heard Draco sneer derisively – stood up in all the grandeur of his age and prowess to say, "Nitwit, Blubber, Tweak!" Vlad struggled not to groan at the shortest welcoming speech he had ever heard. Even his school's headmaster was a little crazy.

The food that had magically appeared on the plates was a welcome reprieve from the quickly growing nightmare that was his school life. It was completely fresh and the very sight of all the delicacies made his mouth water. Having Renfield as their local cook had not necessarily meant edible meals and the culinary arts was one of the fields that his father pointedly neglected unless it involved blood. Few vampires took the liberties to learn what pleased the palate of Breathers. Vlad didn't hesitate to dive in and was happily oblivious to anything else for a few fleeting minutes.

It was only when he heard the "Hello" to his right while taking a sip of his juice that he was suitably distracted from his meal. Vlad placed his goblet down and turned to look at the boy beside him. He had dark brown hair, similar to Vlad's own, and brown eyes that glittered with dark curiosity. His frame was rather thin but his skin was a tanned sort of flawless and he was politely smiling as he introduced himself.

"My name is Theodore Nott," the boy said.

"I'm Vlad." They shook hands once before Vlad continued, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Just Vlad?" Theodore asked. "Forgive me for asking, but is that your full name?"

Of course. This was Slytherin. From the looks of it, there was hardly anybody here but heirs and heiresses to prominent Houses. "My full name is Vladimir Dracula."

"Not from Britain?" pitched in a girl sitting just opposite of them. "Oh, forgive me. My name is Pansy Parkinson. I just couldn't help but overhear as dearest Theo spoke to the newest addition to the Slytherin House."

She spoke as if she herself had been in the House for quite some time already, as if she hadn't been just Sorted like Vlad had been. Curious. Now that Vlad noticed that, it did seem as if the majority of the First Years at the table already knew each other. He hadn't heard any introductions aside from his own and they were all conversing rather animatedly as if they had been doing so for years. There was a sense of companionship and understanding that could among them that could only be formed over time. Well…that's what Vlad believed. But he might be completely off the mark considering he had so little social contact outside of his family's vampire acquaintances.

Vlad nodded. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Pansy. And yes, my family doesn't live in Britain."

By now, it felt as if everybody within a five-foot radius had their attention partially if not fully focused on this exchange. If Vlad was right, and if everybody here already knew everybody, then he would be the largest unknown at the table. Of course he would be the center of interest. They were all probably judging him from his clothes to the way he twitched his face while he spoke.

It made Vlad want to cringe. This was starting to look far too much like the typical vampire society for his liking. At this rate, he would have to start thinking like his sister or father and that was something he had been trying to avoid in the first place.

As if they sensed that Vlad now knew their attention, another boy jumped in. "Blaise Zabini," he introduced. "It is just a guess, but does your family live in Russia,then, if you are not from Britain?"

"Not quite," Vlad replied. "I suppose you're guessing from my accent? Russian is a Slavic language and has a different sound. I am from Romania and Romanian is a Latin language. It's a mix of Byzantine, Slavic, and Latin."

Pansy cooed, "Oh…I must apologize for Blaise's poor predictions. We do not receive many foreign students here and I'm afraid the only prominent families we know further east are from Russia and several parts of Asia."

Vlad wasn't stupid. He knew what she was saying when she said that their families did not know any in Romania. She was trying to see whether he was actually from an important family at all without directly asking. Yet as much as this bristled on Vlad's nerves, he had to force himself to stop and think. Did he really want to announce that his family was prominent? He wanted nothing more than to say that his family was just like any other but that would make his life considerably harder in Slytherin. It was obvious that status was important here. Did he really want to bury himself inside of a snake pit without any protection?

Vlad's mouth tasted bitter when he said, "My father is a Count and my family well off. We own a couple of estates but my father has decided not to expand outside of the country because he loves Romania so much."

That bit of information immediately caused those listening to relax and actual welcoming expressions to come into full bloom upon their faces. They all now knew that Vlad was one of them now: privileged and wealthy. Vlad had tried to keep it as vague as possible and he was surprised to see that it worked; everybody seemed to accept his statement and assume that he was his or her definition of a suitable Slytherin.

"I will have to ask my mother to look up your family name," Blaise said offhandedly. "I have not heard of the Draculas but I'm sure it is because we just looked over your country. I'm sure we won't make that mistake again."

That sent a slight flutter of anxiety through Vlad's heart. His father truly was an important figure in Romania, but those who were not vampires most likely did not know it. Would their family be listed or even mentioned when Blaise's family looked it up?

"I knew you didn't quite fit with Potter and Weasley on the train," drawled a familiar voice. Vlad couldn't help but grimace at Draco's acidic tone and he avoided catching the blonde's gaze slightly further down the table. "All I had to do was look at how _undignified_ those other two were to see it."

Vlad blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "Really? I thought I was just _trash_?"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't push it, Dracula. You're lucky I'm letting your earlier…comment go. If I told my father what you said about my family and I, I'm sure you would be out of Hogwarts in days."

Sometimes Vlad wondered if it would be profitable to buy himself a muzzle. His mouth just wouldn't shut up at the worst of times. Now that he had antagonized Draco, several of the others were glancing uncertainly at Vlad. They clearly trusted and knew the blonde better.

Vlad was saved the need to reply when the ghosts made their appearance again. This time, he was prepared for it and was slightly amused to hear Draco shriek a little as a particularly bloody spirit popped its head through the blonde's plate.

"You're the Bloody Baron," Draco said with a slight tremor in his voice.

The ghost raised an eyebrow. "Indeed, young Malfoy. I recall your father saying the exact same thing when he was a First Year. I suppose the apple does not fall far from the tree."

Bats, this was strange. The blood hardly fazed Vlad at all considering there was a whole cellar of the stuff stored in his home but the mere fact that they were conversing with a long-dead soul was strange. His father had never mentioned their existence before; the Count had even said ghosts didn't exist. Perhaps they didn't for vampires. All a vampire turned into upon his or her death was dust. Maybe they didn't have a soul to wander in eternal afterlife.

The Bloody Baron scanned the newcomers to his House and appraised them all. Occasionally, he nodded or motioned his head in the direction of a student he recognized as part of a family he once knew but when he settled his gaze upon Vlad, his eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"Fascinating," the Baron murmured. "And I thought admitting a werewolf a few years back had been bad enough."

Vlad knew all too well what the ghost was referring to. This being knew what Vlad was and that unnerved the young vampire. Why did this dead wizard know but current ones didn't? It was something he would have to look into later. Right now, he was just relieved that the single comment hadn't revealed too much. All it did was elicit some confused looks from his fellow housemates.

Vlad coughed uncomfortably. "That's…um...interesting." He turned to Theodore in slight desperation. "What exactly decides how one becomes a ghost?" Hopefully, that was enough to suitably distract the crowd.

Theo raised an eyebrow. "I hope you are not asking because you wish to be one."

"Of course not!" Vlad exclaimed, horrified. "I – I was just curious because I have never seen a ghost before."

"Calm down, young one," the Bloody Baron murmured amusedly. "Mr. Nott was merely jesting."

"You have no sense of humor," smiled Pansy teasingly. "Loosen up, Dracula."

Yeah, right. Loosen up and he'd be stabbed in the back in seconds.

"Ghosts are the still-wandering spirits of the unsatisfied," Draco drawled, bored. "Do they teach you nothing in Romania?"

"Perhaps in Romania, there _are_ no unsatisfied spirits," Vlad retorted.

Draco snorted and turned back to his plate as if the foreign student was suddenly beneath his attention.

"Oh, you're no fun, Draco," Pansy whined. Blaise only raised an eyebrow as Theo shrugged and returned to his own meal. Silence then lent a heavy air among them and Vlad was a little unsettled to see how easily the others followed Malfoy's lead. The Bloody Baron merely watched the exchange curiously and gave the young vampire one last cursory glance before floating away to muse.

~0~

The Slytherin quarters were, oddly enough, _comforting_ in Vlad's opinion. Oh, it was almost overly ornate, lit with only a few candles, and alight with an almost supernatural glow from the lake's waters that encompassed the entirety of the grand windows lining two walls of the Common Room. It seemed depressing and slightly pompous in all definitions and there was no sign of the warm, comforting colors that would have signified a more _normal_ environment. Vlad might have preferred less emerald and fewer snake carvings but overall he found the place a cleaner version of his own castle back at home. Hence, the sense of the odd comfort and familiarity.

And wasn't it ironic that the boy who had wanted to escape his vampiric lifestyle found this place reassuring?

Vlad noticed how almost none of the new students expressed any reaction upon seeing the Common Room. Perhaps they were used to such environments as well or their own parents had already prepared them for such a sight.

The Prefects were quick and concise yet thorough with their tour. The girls' dorms would be to the left while the boys' dorms would be down the right corridor. The bathrooms were split and placed in each respective side. Showers were beside the bathrooms and studying could be done both in their private dorms as well as the Common Room where several long tables were organized for that express purpose. There was also a private collection of donated books from Slytherins past that went further into the school topics if one needed help outside of the main library the entire school shared and an operating Floo system was installed into the Common Room fireplace that could be used with Head of House permission. When the Prefects had finished their required monologue, Vlad and his fellow male dorm mates were finally allowed free rein to explore their shared quarters.

What Blaise, who had taken the liberty of opening the door to their room first, and the rest of them hadn't been expecting upon entering was a surprise attack from a black ball of fur. It elicited a slight shocked shout from most of them but Vlad rushed forward, apologizing for his cat.

"Bloody…!" Blaise scowled as he pushed the feline into Vlad's hands. "Is this yours?"

Vlad grinned sheepishly. "I received him when shopping for my school supplies. I haven't had much time to train him yet."

Theo scanned the animal. "It's not a Kneazle?"

"What?" Vlad blinked.

"Merlin, Dracula," Draco sneered. "Have you been living under a rock? A Kneazle is a highly intelligent magical feline."

"Oh," Vlad replied before giving his cat a considering look. "I'm not so sure. My father never told me what it is."

"Have you not named it either?" Theo asked. "You are calling it 'it' rather than a proper name."

Vlad was suddenly wishing that he had gotten more than one volume of _The Wizards' World for the Ignorant_ and that he had actually formed a name for his cat. He probably looked very foolish owning a familiar and not knowing what to call it and the few blunders he had made earlier in the evening were not doing his claim that he came from a wealthy family any favors. It seemed as if wealth equaled knowledge to these Slytherins.

"I'd call it Nox," Blaise snapped irritably. Clearly, he did not take a potentially harmless attack from a small feline very well. "Bloody thing is so dark it seemed to come out of nowhere."

Vlad brightened immediately at the suggestion and gave Blaise a smile. "That's perfect!"

The other boy sniffed and swept past the Romanian to search for his designated bed. Their belongings had been already placed beside certain beds and their clothes (which Vlad was pretty sure he had locked away in his trunk) had been hung inside small private closets that fit snugly occupied every bunk. Vlad cradled his cat – Kneazle? – and went to find his own belongings and was relieved to see that it was located near one of the three windows in the room. This way, it would seem less claustrophobic; there was a reason Vlad had wanted the highest tower room back at home. He hated feeling restricted.

Vlad settled on top of the emerald covers cloaking his new bed for the next seven years. He grinned a little and held his familiar in front of him. A wry quirk touched his lips as he asked, "Nox. Do you like it?"

Perhaps the cat really was a Kneazle. There was no way that mischievous spark in those mismatched, feline eyes could mean anything less than understanding.

~0~

Vlad waited until the final candles had dimmed and the last of the boys settled under their blankets and the first snores to penetrate the air before he silently reached down into his trunk to extract a quill, an inkbottle, and a single role of parchment in the darkness. Vlad winced when he realized that he had no solid surface to write upon but he was reluctant to crawl out of bed and risk being seen writing at a desk. There was also no light to write by but he had long ago learned how to scribble a few things blindly. His father had the habit of casting away all of the fires before heading to his coffin and more often than not, Renfield was holed away doing a dangerous experiment when Vlad did need some light. It was true that the Count was awake at night and the candles lit then, but the few times he overslept Vlad and his sister were reduced to writing in darkness when they needed to finish an assignment for a private tutor who might be coming and expecting assignments completed.

Vlad braced the parchment against his knee as he sat upright on the mattress and frowned. He knew how to write all sorts of formal invitations or decrees and whatnot but he had never had the need to just write a simple letter to somebody he knew well. He never knew where to send one for his mother because she was always shifting, always moving and after a few years of her infrequent "visits", he had stopped wanting to write letters to her. His sister and father lived with him so direct contact was all he needed to communicate with them and he had never truly known his grandparents. In short, he had no idea how to start his letter home.

The first few attempts in Vlad's mind consisted of initial inquiries about how things were at home but he quickly discarded those; his father always found reporting such events dull. After a myriad of other ideas, he finally settled on a simple hello and a description of what the Hogwarts Express and castle were like. Vlad briefly mentioned that he had been placed in Slytherin House but he did not dwell on it not only because it was still a slightly sore spot but also because his father most likely had no idea what it would mean anyway. He worked up the nerve to ask how his sister was doing as well and ended rather awkwardly with a goodbye.

When he was finally finished, Vlad rolled it up and bit his thumb to smear some of his blood over the outer edge of the parchment. His blood would inform his father whom it was from and keep Renfield from immediately destroying the letter. The Count had learned over the decades to discard of any unidentified mail; apparently, quite a few vengeful mistresses from affairs past were still out for his head.

Vlad leaned forward to gently prod Nox awake when he had everything in order and smiled apologetically at the feline's irritated blink.

"Sorry about this," Vlad whispered. "But could you please deliver this to Dad for me?"

The cat continued to glare and Vlad sighed before adding, "I'll give you some of my breakfast tomorrow."

Immediately, Nox was up and prodding the young vampire's hand for the letter. Vlad grinned and opened his palm for the cat to securely grasp it in its mouth. Normally, owls did the duty of delivering mail, but the Count had told Vlad that this particular cat had been trained to do the same. It didn't matter the distance; Nox would get the letter wherever Vlad wanted it to go. Again, the young vampire suspected magic at work but he doubted he would ever be able to verify it. Vlad opened the drapes for Nox to exit the bed and watched the feline slink away and eventually blend into the night that so matched its fur.

~0~

The morning found Vlad sprawled haphazardly on his bed and a rather impatient Theo trying to wake the vampire up.

"It's seven-thirty for Merlin's sake!" Theo snapped as Vlad blearily rubbed his eyes. "Everybody else woke up an hour ago!"

Vlad groaned, pushing Nox off his chest. "Are they down at breakfast already?"

"Thanks to you: no," Draco drawled from afar. "We do not receive our schedules down at breakfast like the rest of the Houses. The Slytherin prefects prefer to hand them out in the Common Room."

Vlad frowned. Now that he was awake, he saw all of the boys in his dorm fully dressed and scowling.

"Why are all of you waiting then?"

Theo grit his teeth. "Because they need everybody in our dorm present. It doesn't look good if we walk down to breakfast already fractioned off, except we didn't learn that until we walked down to ask for our schedules and had Flint chew us out for a good ten minutes."

So they _had_ tried to just leave him here. Vlad should have known they would. Everybody for themselves in the House of the cunning and ambitious. It made him want to scream at the unfairness of having been placed here. While the Slytherin boys themselves were decent once past their initial high-nosed attitudes, natural giving and selflessness had not been ingrained into them.

"Give me a few minutes," Vlad said, his face carefully blank as he grabbed his toiletries and headed towards the shared bathroom. He swiftly brushed his teeth before showering and was back out with his hair still damp.

He was pulling on the standard trousers that went underneath the robes and pulling on a vest when Blaise asked, "What on earth are you putting on?"

Vlad glanced at the bright green vest he had in his hands and blinked. "My uniform."

"But why is it neon?"

The vampire looked at the clothing again with his brow furrowed. "It's just a little bright."

"It might have been different in Romania, Dracula," Draco drawled irritably. "But in Britain, we don't aim to blind anybody who looks at us."

If Vlad hadn't known any better, he could have sworn he had just signed himself up for seven years with a House of vampires. Who knew Slytherins had a penchant for dark colors? "There's no rule against it. It's green like my House colors and that's all the rules ask for."

Theo rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just put it on so we can go."

Last night, Vlad thought he had maneuvered decently with his housemates but his debacle this morning was clearly ruining things for him. Honestly, much of this had been his fault for staying up past sleeping hours to write a letter and he should have known to wake himself up on time. Vlad quickly shrugged on his vest and robes before grasping his bag to sling over his shoulder.

In the corner, Crabbe whimpered, "Finally. Can we go eat now?"

The group of boys made its way down to the common room and waited as one Prefect checked them all off and handed them their schedules before Crabbe got his wish. By the time they were down in the Main Hall, most of the tables were already filled with chattering students. Vlad made sure to seat himself towards the edge of his housemates to avoid their irritation and grabbed a roll to nibble on while scanning his classes.

It was rather predictable considering almost all of the First Years shared the same core courses. Variety and choice only came around Third Year from what Vlad had read over the summer. Classes began at eight in the morning and Vlad sadly glanced at the welcoming breakfast feast before deciding that it would be best to forgo a fancy meal. He still wasn't sure of the castle's layout and he could easily finish a quick nibble on the way there.

Grabbing a few more rolls, Vlad stood up and pocketed his schedule. He briefly contemplated waiting for the others but he swiftly decided against it. They hadn't spoken to him once past the Slytherin Common Room and they were clearly still displeased with him.

Fine. Let them have their way. If they were going to hold a grudge about it, Vlad was hardly going to try to convince them otherwise.

All Vlad really wanted right now was to curse the Sorting Hat into oblivion.

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**Hello peoples :) So first thing's first: Vlad doesn't necessarily hate Slytherin House despite what it sounds like at the end of the chapter. He just as a dislike for it for now because he's suddenly plunged back into an environment similar to the one he had tried to escape. He doesn't hate the boys nor does he hate that he is one of them; he just hates the way the society in Slytherin works. **

**Guess he doesn't know how well he can do there, huh? **

**Anyway this was a sort of a filler chapter but it was needed. The cat needed a name and the initial interactions with the Slytherin kids were sort of crucial. **

**Wonder how Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville are doing in fluffy Gryffindor? **

**Till next time!**


	5. Wandless

**I do not own anything that could get me sued. So please, don't sue me; I do not own Harry Potter or Young Dracula.**

**Thanks to all my reviewers! It helps a lot :)**

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**Chapter 5: Wandless**

When Vlad finally made his way to his first class, Transfigurations, he was relieved to see that he was far from the last person inside; only Hermione and a rather ruffled looking Neville occupied two seats directly in the front. A slight smile quirked Vlad's mouth when he realized that the female Gryffindor had probably dragged her male companion down here. Neville had eagerly turned at the sound of the classroom door opening and only a person desperate for escape did so.

Hermione turned primly a moment later and raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's good to see that we're not the only people who arrive early, right Neville?"

Neville nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, sure."

"Have you already prepared for Transfigurations? I've gone through the first eleven chapters of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ but I'm planning on the finishing the rest this week. I can't fall behind, now can I?" Hermione fired off. "I'm rather excited for this class and I especially can't wait to get to Hackle's Morphing Theory."

Thank the bats that he had little to do over the summer preceding this school year. If Vlad hadn't immersed himself in the textbooks, he would have had no idea what the Gryffindor was talking about. Luckily, he had gotten to Hackle's Morphing Theory and he smiled back to say, "I can't wait either. Hopefully our professor will go into detail how the nature of the object will affect the particular motions of the spell castor. It got a little fuzzy for me when I reached the third hypothesis Hackle came up with."

There was a slight look of astonishment on Hermione's face – as if she hadn't expected that reply. Vlad's smile turned uneasy before he was struck with the realization that while her excitement about magic had been sincere, she had been deliberately flaunting her knowledge. That bit of information now tinted Vlad's view of her a little and it made him rather subdued. Was it really necessary to show off like that? Vlad didn't have much more time to ponder the question before the doors behind him opened to reveal the Slytherin troupe. Apparently, they had decided to leave breakfast not too long after he had.

All of them gave him a cursory glance before immediately placing themselves on the opposite side of the room Hermione and Neville were seated at. It was a clear that they wanted nothing to do with the lions and judging from the way they had given him that quick look before sitting, they thought he should join as well.

But this was exactly what Vlad had been aiming to avoid. What was wrong with making friends from other Houses even if they did have a tendency to keep toads and show off? He wasn't going to be an elitist; that was exactly what his father wanted from him and what all vampires were expected to do. Vlad wanted to keep all options open, be receptive to every experience he could get. What was the point of restricting himself to one particular group of associates? So when a group of Gryffindors came in a few minutes later, Vlad decided to seat himself in the center – right smack dab in the middle of the divide.

Several of the lions looked at him curiously, as if wondering who would be crazy enough to _choose_ to sit alone on the first day of class. None of the Slytherins even glanced his way, but Vlad could tell by the way they tensed their shoulders and cast each other looks that they were wondering the same thing. They were all probably wondering what crazy person would not choose a side when it was clear there were only two to choose from. It made Vlad a little sad to realize that his dorm mates weren't going to do anything more than hint that they expected unity among them in public and even more disappointed to see that almost all of the Gryffindors pointedly avoided eye contact with him after seeing the snake embroidered on to his robes.

Apparently, prejudice ran on both sides of the battle.

All of them sat waiting for a good while. Time started to drag on and Vlad was beginning to wonder whether the professor had forgotten today was the first day of class when a tabby cat appeared out of nowhere. It ran its bright eyes over the room before primly seating itself on top of the large table in the front. The class tensed at the animal's presence and Vlad could taste something magically tangible about the situation for the briefest of moments before the doors opened again with a loud thud.

Harry and Ron came stumbling inside, panting and disheveled. It was obvious that they had been running in a desperate attempt to arrive on time.

"Well, good thing McGonagall isn't here," Ron grinned victoriously.

Everybody gasped when the cat in front materialized before their eyes into the severe woman who had introduced them to the castle before the Sorting. Vlad stared at the woman as she lectured the two tardy Gryffindors and a sense of wonder overcame him. Sure, he had seen plenty displays of vampiric magic all his life and morphing into bats and wolves had been common. But to see that the range of such abilities stretched far beyond the vampire restrictions excited him and gave a slight twitch to his fingers, eager to begin.

Vlad barely noticed when the professor finished and commanded the two to take to seat. It was only when Harry made a move to sit beside Vlad that reality came back into focus. For the briefest of moments, hope and excitement rose in the young vampire's chest. Finally, here was somebody who was willing to take a chance with the neutral!

But then Harry hesitated in his movements as his eyes ran over the green accenting the edges of his hood and sleeves and hesitated even more when Ron whispered, "Where are you going, Harry?"

The Wizarding World's celebrity glanced over at his redhead friend and bit his lips when he saw Ron already seated on the Gryffindor side of the classroom. Indecision clouded Harry's emerald eyes and Vlad waited patiently, his face never betraying the hope that was begging for somebody to sit beside him. But then Harry looked away and seated himself with the rest of his House to leave Vlad alone once again.

Vlad wasn't going to lie: that hurt. There was nothing worse than having one's expectations raised only to see them crushed. It was a bitter pill to swallow and suddenly the possibility of starting over appeared far more distant than it had at the beginning. How was he supposed to make a normal life for himself in a society already stratified?

For now, he wasn't going to give up. Everybody deserved a chance.

Vlad was a little disappointed to find that their first class involved no spell casting whatsoever but he realized that it made sense. For those of them who hadn't read the books ahead of time or had tutors to help, starting off with a spell with no knowledge of how it worked would have been disastrous.

Still, Vlad's first day had turned out a little dull because of the slow start and the subsequent frostiness surrounding the other Slytherins' attitude towards him just put a further damper on the mood. They had accepted him well enough the night before, but upon seeing his teetering loyalties, a sort of wall had developed between them. It was childish in Vlad's opinion and he was willing to admit that he was slightly sour about it as well. It wasn't like he didn't understand them. He had grown up knowing that attitude and the reasons behind it. Within the elite, groups and belonging with the group mattered a great deal. Integrating oneself with the so-called "enemy" – even if it was just a declaration of impartiality – meant betrayal and betrayal was not easily forgotten. Perhaps this situation was not so severe as to brand Vlad a traitor, but the general feeling was the same; the other boys had felt that they had been rejected and therefore reciprocated in kind to retaliate.

For all of Vlad's knowledge – knowing that what he was doing was not wrong at all – this attitude still managed to make him feel guilty. It irritated him to no end that they somehow managed to make _him_ the antagonist in all of this when, in reality, he was just a neutral bystander.

Even Vlad had to admit how sad it was that he ended up spending his first few nights at Hogwarts not in the Common Room or surrounded by newfound friends as he had planned, but in the school library poring over the books. He probably painted a pitiful figure sitting alone in a corner with stacks of books nearly obscuring his frame from view. He hadn't wanted to stay in the Slytherin dorms because he might run into one of the boys and he hadn't wanted to seek company in the form of any of the other Gryffindors either because he was fairly sure they would not take so well to a Slytherin in their midst. In the end, the only option he saw was to immerse himself in a place nobody would bother him at.

The Count and Ingrid had never understood why Vlad had enjoyed completing and working though homework and duties he had been assigned that was not related to vampiric sources. He took particular pleasure in doing what any sane child would hate and something told Vlad that even the students at Hogwarts would eventually find him strange for enjoying work. It all again tied back to the fact that doing homework was _normal _and something any decent vampire would avoid. It gave him a sense that he was just another kid who was doing just another assignment. That, and books had always given him a sort of solace to return to – a solid companion when so many things in his life were never permanent.

So went the rest of the first week. Some time on the fifth day, Vlad had decided to pull out one of the books he had checked out from the library and took up the practice of reading during his lessons. What many of his professors introduced to him in the beginning was just a repeat of books he had already read and he found it dull. None of them seemed to notice or if they did notice, none of them seemed to mind.

Harry had taken to glancing at him in every class Gryffindor and Slytherin. When Ron had loudly asked what Harry was doing during one class, Vlad had decided to seat himself further apart, slightly closer to the Slytherins. A part of him was screaming that what he was doing was stupid and he was only distancing himself from people who might be potential friends but he wanted somebody to actually have the guts to approach him rather than the other way around. If Harry wasn't going to take the effort to escape the others and approach him, then why should he do the same?

Or maybe he really was a solitary vampire after all and it was his fault for not making the first move.

Either way, sitting alone in no man's land had managed to gain him more than the students' glances. Many of his teachers surreptitiously watched him as if he were a strange variable to the equation and during their first Potions class, their professor had expressly called him out.

The dungeons had already been a rather damp and dusky place to reside, but the Potions labs were even further down than the Slytherin dorms. Vlad had almost wrinkled his facial expression when first entering the classroom and several Gryffindors made disgusted and nervous sounds. The entire place had been lit with only a few candles and almost every surface gleamed a sleek black. It seemed a place prone to accidents and the various bubbling concoctions around the place had set Vlad's hair on edge. He had read about Potions, of course, and it sounded not unlike the daily activities that Renfield back at home enjoyed doing.

The class had arranged itself into the typical divide between Houses with the noticeable exception of Vlad. He stood alone at a center table and noticed uneasily that the counter set-up had been for a pair. He wasn't quite sure whether the potions they were making required more than one person to create, but something told him that there was a reason why there were only two seats per stand and one empty flask on each desk.

At the exact second class began, Professor Snape – the Slytherin Head of House – came sweeping into the classroom with all the presence of a man not afraid to punish his students. Vlad had never seen him before that moment and he had been struck by the severity of the man's expression. It had been clear that the Potions Master had suffered from an affliction of a crooked nose and a permanently dour disposition. There had been an aura of intense negativity about him as if nothing in his life had gone right.

Vlad had the pretty fair impression that this was not a teacher to mess with.

"There will be no silly wand waving in this class," Professor Snape had immediately drawled, his eyes contemptuously running over the Gryffindor's side of the room. Almost all of the lions had flushed and magical conductors had been hastily placed away. "Potions is a delicate art and it transcends the more mindless actions of drawing pretty pictures in the air and shouting words in hopes of achieving some result. You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. I don't expect many of you will truly understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper on death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

There had been a slight undercurrent of a passion in the professor's voice and even though it had been slightly grayed by the bitterness oozing from his very being, Vlad had still been fascinated and intimidated. Here was somebody who truly knew what he was talking about (not like his other professors didn't) and could offer much if one took the extra effort. Something had told Vlad that this man wasn't the type to easily divulge information to those who showed little care for the subject.

Almost the moment Professor Snape had finished his monologue, he had focused upon Harry. A flash of hatred had fluttered through those eyes but it had been so brief Vlad had almost missed it. "Ah, our own…celebrity. Tell me, Potter, have you even gotten past the first page of your Potions textbook?"

Annoyance had immediately tickled Vlad's stomach. It hadn't fair of the man to ask such a thing. Even though it probably would have been the intelligent thing to do, Harry had most likely not done so. Entering an entirely new world had that effect on people. If Vlad had suddenly been told that magic existed on his eleventh birthday, he too would have been more concerned with the brilliance around him rather than a textbook he could have been reading. Perhaps this Potions Master was one of the forerunners of his subject, but the simple bullying he proceeded to place Harry through had immediately dampened some of the respect Vlad had felt previously.

When Harry had gaped in surprise at the question, a sneer had marred the already bitter face of the professor and he had snapped, "Of course you haven't. Incompetent. Let me make this clear to you, Mr. Potter: just because the rest of the world adores does not mean you can get away with laziness in my class."

Harry had only stared in poorly masked shock. What, exactly, had he done to earn his professor's ire? Nobody in the room seemed to know but Vlad noticed that the Slytherins took a little too much pleasure in the scene.

As Professor Snape's gaze had absently scanned the room after his attack, he had caught the anomaly that was oddly seated in the center. His eyes had narrowed a little upon seeing Vlad's form alone and then it widened upon spotting the Slytherin crest. Apparently, that had just been a surprise to the professor as it had been to the rest of Vlad's House had first seen him do it.

"And why are you sitting alone, Mr.…?"

"Dracula, sir," Vlad had politely supplied. "Vlad Dracula."

Something akin to recognition had touched the man's eyes but in the lighting, Vlad couldn't be quite sure whether it was due to his name or just a trick of the darkness. Perhaps the professor had read the novel like Harry had.

"Well, Mr. Dracula. In Potions, it is preferable that you work with a partner. It prevents accidents from occurring and speeds up much of the process in order to ensure the potions finished at a suitable time limit."

Vlad had wanted to bite his lip. "Sir, I believe there is an uneven number of students in this class."

Professor Snape's eyes had automatically moved to count the number himself and upon finishing, nodded once and he had crisply replied, "Well, then. It appears you have drawn an unlucky card. It seems you will have to complete the remainder of the year on your own." It had seemed complete and the subject dropped, but Vlad knew well enough to distinguish the cadences of other voices. Something was bothering his Head of House and it had been something entirely different from the mere uneven pairs of students.

~0~

In the end, it hadn't truly mattered. They had spent the rest of the class preparing and ensuring all procedures were understood like all the rest of their classes before. None of the teachers, not even Professor Snape, had seemed willing to risk any sort of accident the first week.

So when their Charms class the second week of school meant trying out their very first spells, it was understandable that there an air of excitement among the First Years.

Vlad woke up the first morning of the second week with a slight smile curling his lips and he was the first out the dorms for the first time that entire year. Breakfast flew by as a speedy feeding session for Nox and soon, Vlad was seated in his customary center seat just waiting for Professor Flitwick's instructions.

"Remember class," the small man had chirped. "Swish and flick! Swish and flick! And what was the incantation?"

"Wingardium Leviosa!" the class chorused for the hundredth time.

"Very good, very good!" the professor clapped. "Now why don't all of you give it a try? Go ahead!"

They didn't need anymore encouragement. The room was automatically filled with a host of shouting, prodding, and excited rabble. Vlad himself happily threw himself into the task but was hit with the sudden realization that it just might be a little queer for him to be casting a spell without a wand. Did the professor already know that he couldn't use a wand?

Vlad hesitated and stared at the feather on his desk. He wanted nothing more than to try to taste that magic he had felt upon first placing on the band around his arm, but maybe this would just make him stand out again – mark him as _strange_. Everybody around him was using a wand.

Vlad tentatively reached out his hand and it hovered over the light object in front of him. Was he supposed to wave his hand like wand? It wasn't like he had a definite conductor to mimic the movements of a wand but it also wouldn't hurt to try. He swished and flicked as he had seen the professor do with his wand and murmured the incantation beneath his breath but nothing happened. Vlad hadn't felt anything and it probably seemed as if he had just stupidly talked to a feather. He tried again, this time blocking out the sounds of the others around him. Maybe if he just focused more…

It still didn't work.

Five more attempts of the same thing just resulted in a motionless feather. A slightly frustrated growl escaped his lips and he withdrew his hand. Apparently, using his hand as a conductor was pointless. Maybe he should refer back to the early days of having his band on when he had been capable of using magic effortlessly. That had been all a fluke of drunken power – Vlad hadn't even truly known what he was doing – but maybe if he just mimicked what he had felt back then, something would turn up.

Vlad close his eyes and breathed slowly. His magic was in his blood, in his very being. He wasn't like the typical wizard. If that were the case, he would have to _feel_ his magic and draw it up…and maybe through his skin? Something like that…

Almost immediately, something stirred within him. He let out a slight breathless gasp at the sensation but he eagerly clung to the reaction and coaxed it to continue. Slowly, ever so slowly, something akin to fire or sparks seemed to settle just beneath his veins, ready for him to use – to _command_.

Vlad's eyes snapped open and he only had to think the action for the feather to jerk to eyelevel.

He held the feather like so for a grand total of five seconds before the fire beneath his skin faded back into the recesses and he was left breathing heavily as if he had just run a marathon. Vlad was taken aback by just how tired he was by the simple act of lifting a feather but a sense of accomplishment pervaded his mind. He had found a way to access his magic and wasn't that the important part?

The rest of the class finally came back into focus. Everybody else was still attempting to lift his or her own feather and Vlad noticed with slight pride that he had been the first to cast the incantation correctly (even though he hadn't really _said_ the incantation). Nobody seemed to have noticed his victory though – the downfall of sitting alone.

"You go ahead and do it then," snapped Ron's voice angrily from the side, suddenly loud enough for the rest of the class to hear. "If you know so much, then you do it."

"Fine," Hermione replied curtly. She primly picked her wand and confidently said, "Wingardium Leviosa." Vlad wasn't surprised to see her feather fly up immediately. What he was surprised by was how effortless it seemed for her and how high up the object went. Why was it that he had such a difficult time? Was it because he was doing his magic wandlessly?

He turned his attention back to his feather and frowned. It was clear that having some sort of focus made using magic easier. Surely there was _something_ to help him perform just as effortlessly. He didn't want to be the only person out of his entire class panting over something as simple as lifting a feather. What was something that could help him?

The sudden image of his father snapping his fingers to light the candles in their home came to mind and Vlad felt the urge to slap his palm to his forehead. Honestly, would snapping help that much?

Vlad focused on the feather again and snapped experimentally, not really expecting any result.

He jerked backwards and yelped a little bit when that rush of magic overcame him again and the feather flew upwards. Vlad was incredulous that snapping actually had worked and winced a little when he noticed that this time, everybody was looking at him.

"Oh, very good, Mr. Dracula!" Professor Flitwick squealed from below. The little teacher tottered up the aisle to get a closer look at Vlad's display of magic and continued, "Second in the class to achieve it; very good!" When the man finally came into Vlad's line of sight, the young vampire tentatively grinned at the Charms professor. The man had such a bright, cheerful smile beneath his mustache that it was difficult not to.

A few moments longer though, the professor was no longer smiling, but staring a little confusedly.

"Where is your wand, Mr. Dracula?"

Vlad blinked and a sinking feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. "My wand?" It was probably a stupid question considering everybody here had one.

"Yes…wizards need wands to perform magic, Mr. Dracula."

"Erm," Vlad stammered. "Well…I don't use a wand."

The Charms professor glanced up at the still floating feather and nodded slowly. "I can see that." He seemed lost in thought for a few moments before his face brightened again. "You are a very talented wizard, then, Mr. Dracula. Very few – _very_ few – wizards can perform magic without a wand."

~0~

"You don't have a _wand_?" asked Blaise with a hint of shock in his voice. The group of Slytherins who had been so pointedly aloof towards Vlad the past week had suddenly decided to take interest in the young vampire the moment the Charms class had ended. The second Vlad had taken a step into the hallway, the entire hoard had cornered him. "How can you do wandless magic already?"

"It's got to be a trick," Pansy sniffed. "That isn't possible. My father said that only the greatest wizards and witches in the world could do that."

Vlad scowled. He wasn't quite in the mood to deal with them. They hadn't been mean to him before, but they had pointedly left him to his own devices. Now that he suddenly seemed to stand out and have some potential value, they finally stepped forward to approach him again. "Are you saying that I can't be a great wizard?"

"What she's saying," Draco said, his thin voice cutting through the air like a knife, "is that only the _fully trained_ and _fully developed_ powerful wizards can perform wandless magic. It's unheard of in students like us unless it's accidental magic."

Perfect. Not having a wand really did make Vlad stand out. "Come on, surely there's been somebody who has done wandless magic a little early."

"Probably not since Merlin himself," Theo replied. "And even then we're not so sure."

Vlad certainly didn't want them to begin thinking he was as powerful as Merlin. He wasn't. He just happened to be a vampire with a band hidden under his clothes that made it seem like he was doing magic without a conductor. But that wasn't something he was going to tell the Slytherins. Not now. Who knew what they'd think of him once they found out he wasn't exactly human?

"Let's get to Astronomy, Dracula," Draco drawled, pulling Vlad out of his thoughts. "Don't just stand there; thinking too hard is rather unbecoming on you." The young vampire was about to snap back a retort when the little tug of amusement on Draco's lips stopped him.

Had that been…a joke?

~0~

Headmaster Dumbledore had a lot on his mind. This was the first year Harry Potter was back in the Wizarding World and most likely the first year Voldemort was back on the move since his disappearance ten years before. It had been a good ten years of peace that almost everybody thought would last, but Dumbledore knew better; Tom Riddle was hardly somebody to underestimate. The boy had been a brilliant wizard but that brilliance had, unfortunately, been accompanied by some rather unsavory goals.

A knock on his door made the Headmaster perk his head up from its position on his clasped hands. "Come in."

The short form of Filius Flitwick came into view and a touch of curiosity arose within Dumbledore's mind. The Charms professor was an easygoing man and very kind. He was hardly somebody to be belittled though; he was a formidable duelist and somebody Dumbledore was proud to have on his side. Son of a witch and a goblin had certainly labeled the man a target for bullying as a child and yet he had somehow come out of it all strong and filled with unshakeable morals. Overall, Filius was a good man and somebody who almost never visited the Headmaster unless necessary.

"What bring you to my humble abode tonight, Filius?"

The professor let out a long sigh and pulled himself up into a chair. "Headmaster, were you aware that one of the students this year does not have a wand?"

Well, that certainly was a cause for concern. "Oh, the poor thing. Perhaps we could lend the child one until one could be bought?"

"That isn't it, Headmaster. The boy…doesn't seem to _need_ a wand."

The older wizard's brow furrowed. "Doesn't need a wand?"

"He can perform magic wandlessly. I was teaching my First Years the Levitating Charm today and the lad just had the feather floating without a single piece of wood in sight!"

Dumbledore frowned. So there was an anomaly among his students this year. Was this child somebody he would have to watch carefully? Somebody to worry about? "What House is he in and what is his name, Filius?"

"Vladimir is a Slytherin, Headmaster."

A Slytherin. Yes, this was somebody he was going to have to watch. There was always a reason why certain children were Sorted into that House. This boy was powerful and apparently he had the cunning and ambition to make the House of the Snakes. Dumbledore would just have to make sure that Voldemort never even came into the picture with this Vladimir. Who knew what the Dark Lord would use the boy for a few years from now, when the child was more developed and trained?

"There is another thing, Headmaster."

That was not necessarily what Dumbledore wanted to hear after discovering that there was a student strong enough to use wandless magic consciously. "What is it, Filius?"

"The child sits…alone."

"Alone?"

"He chooses to sit in the center of things and watch. I have yet to see him speak unless spoken to."

The Headmaster's eyebrows rose. "He doesn't sit with his Housemates?"

"He sits with neither his dorm mates nor the Gryffindors."

A slight smile touched Dumbledore's mouth. Perhaps there was hope for this Vladimir after all.

* * *

**Alright...well...I really didn't like how I handled some of the transitions in there O-O It makes me annoyed whenever I read it but after staring at this for a few days, I just decided to post this and wait for true inspiration to hit me later. It's sort of slow paced right now in the story but I'll probably pick it up soon. **

**And, um, Vlad is not a loner. He just really wanted to make friends and suddenly, just because he was sitting in the middle and deciding not to choose sides, people weren't talking to him. It is kind of sad because all he really wanted was some sort of companionship without discriminating between Houses. Too bad Vlad has no idea how deeply this sort of thing runs already. I don't think he quite grasps that this sort of thinking was reinforced since the CRIB. I mean, it's a lot more than just House issues. There is the political and Light and Dark sides that's really at war. Because it's kind of obvious that Slytherins lean more towards the Darker spectrum and the Gryffindors towards the Light. **

**Anyway since Vlad doesn't quite grasp the underlying issues, he's just going to stumble along for now (just how I like it). Besides, the Slytherins perked up after that Charms lesson, right? :)**

**And yes, I made Harry go with the flow. He's new, and he used to be stuck in a cupboard until this year. Did you really expect a poor kid who has never had a real social life stand out and go against what his Housemates tell him? No...I don't think so. It will take longer for Harry to get used to his environment and adjust to get his sense of self and individuality. He has to get over the feeling of having to please others around him first and figure out that he doesn't have to follow the status quo to make friends. **

**Till next time!**


	6. Interludes and Halloween

**I do not own anything that will get me sued.**

**Thank you so much to all my reviewers!**

**Okay, so remember how I REALLY didn't like that last chapter? So here's the other version of chapter 6. I deleted the previous chapter six so erase everything that happened in my earlier chapter from your minds. I rewrote it to take the story a different direction. **

**Sorry for the change but I think this will really improve it. Thanks for being patient!**

* * *

**Chapter 6: Interludes and Halloween**

"It has to be a trick," Pansy had muttered to them all following the Charms lesson. "There's no way that could be true."

Blaise made a slight noise in his throat that just escaped the definition of a scoff. "I think none of us are blind. It was obvious that Dracula _could_ and _did_ do it."

"But how?" Theo said almost to himself. "It shouldn't be possible."

Draco sighed and interwove his pale fingers. This conversation had been inevitable. One didn't just see a wandless magic and forget about it, especially not people like them. They had been taught from the very beginning to seek, watch, and utilize power; being born into a pureblood family of ancient descent almost guaranteed that. It was a constant struggle – even among your friends – to get the largest slice of the pie, so to speak.

Draco was lucky enough to have been born into a family that already possessed the wealth and strength that many others envied. As influential and as powerful as his friends' families were, Draco knew that it was his that currently dominated among their circles. His father practically ruled the Ministry, the Minister himself a puppet underneath his family's thumb. His pedigree was spotless and his family, despite their Dark tendencies, was held in high esteem. His family possessed three chairs in the Wizengamot and maintained foreign connections that some would die to have. Their monetary wealth was unmatched in Britain. It was a large responsibility, being the heir to so much. But Draco had been preparing since birth and he welcomed the challenge.

One of his first lessons as a child had been the crucial and all-important lecture of the thing that dominated wizarding families like his: power. Not wealth, not influence, not authority.

Power. Magical power.

Because with that single component, the Malfoys believed that everything else followed. If one had enough magical power to stun and stand above his fellow wizards, wealth, influence, and authority were so much easier to reach. If one had no power, one had none of that. All Draco had to do was look at the Squibs in society to see how true that was.

Draco had been confident that he was one of the most powerful students – if not _the_ most powerful student – in his year. Not only was he one of the few who had actually received a magical education before entering Hogwarts, but he also had the blood of some the greatest witches and wizards of old flowing through his veins.

Then he had opened the door to that one compartment on the Hogwarts Express and his hopes had been almost instantaneously blown away.

At first, he hadn't noticed it. He only had eyes for his target, Harry Potter, at the time. His father had encouraged him to get to the celebrity before anybody else could but he had been disappointed to find that a Weasley, of all people, had sunken his claws into Potter first. Having Harry Potter on his side would have been great and the amount of things he could do with such an attention-getter would have been enormous. The loss of such an opportunity caused him to act more than a little petulant and it had taken a lot of control not to behave like he had just lost a favorite toy. He had once overheard somebody say that he did that too much.

Yet Draco had also been the tiniest bit relieved. His parents might have insisted that Harry Potter had only destroyed the Dark Lord that night by mere fluke, but a small part of him had always wondered whether the celebrity actually had enough power to kill the most powerful wizard alive. Then he had actually met Harry Potter and all of his childish worries had dissipated. Potter was strong – very strong, perhaps stronger than Draco – but he wasn't _that_ strong. It was nowhere near as bad as Draco had imagined it.

But Vladimir Dracula was another story entirely. The moment he laid eyes upon Dracula, Draco had known that he was outclassed. He had been taught to notice and see power and he couldn't help but think that even those without such training should have been able to notice. Dracula had hardly been overflowing with excess magic but he exuded a sense of otherworldliness that set Draco's nerves on edge. It had been _unnatural_.

Then they had gotten off on the wrong foot and Draco had felt a sense of bitterness and irritation ever since. It was incredibly rude and cruel of the Romanian student to mention his parents' incest (how did a foreign boy know that anyway?) but it had hardly been any crueler than Draco's own comment had been. Draco had stormed away from the compartment that time not because he had been insulted beyond comprehension but he because he had needed some time to think.

He had set off for Hogwarts with all of the different students in mind, allies and enemies alike. He had predicted Potter would be against him but his father had always insisted that to try first was better than not having tried at all and miss a chance. He had predicted the new Weasley spawn to be present and he had predicted the presence of the well-rumored and magically weak heir to the Longbottom household. He had known about his fellow Slytherins, of course, for they had grown up together and he had anticipated several others. What he hadn't prepared for was the single but heavyweight unknown variable in the form of a Romanian boy his age.

And that frustrated Draco. He didn't know quite what to make of Vladimir Dracula and, apparently, neither did his Housemates.

They were situated in a secluded circle of their own amongst the many groups in the Common Room. All of them had noticed long ago that Dracula almost never returned to the dungeons before curfew and they often took advantage of his absence.

"He can do what only a grown, trained, and powerful wizard should be able to do," Draco finally said, cutting off the conversation that had been aimlessly drifting among them. "I think we've established that."

"But _how_?" Pansy asked petulantly.

"It hardly matters. What matters is that he can do it," Theo replied.

"I agree," Blaise intervened. "Wouldn't it be more beneficial to create some ties with him first? That would be the best way to learn how he does it."

Draco snorted. "You expect him to trust us after everything we've done for him since the beginning of the school year?"

Pansy crossed her arms and slunk into her seat. "We haven't done anything _bad_ to him."

"We haven't done much of anything at all. He probably doesn't trust us and I certainly don't trust him. Who has ever heard of the Dracula family, anyway? He might come from Romania but I don't think he's telling the truth when he says he is wealthy," Theo ground out grimly.

"Oh, I think he is telling he truth," Blaise brushed aside. "_That_ is obvious enough. You just have to look at the way he dresses and the way he behaves. I know you've all noticed how he has more than enough clothes that our mothers would approve of and he isn't exactly lost when he's faced with the utensils in the Great Hall either. The Gryffindors don't know which fork to even start with but at least Dracula knows that much."

Draco nodded and sighed once before dusting himself off and standing up. "We are not going to get anywhere right now." And it was true. At this rate, they would just degrade into mere handlers of gossip. "We just don't know enough about him. Just keep an eye out and maybe we will find out something worthwhile."

~0~

Ingrid had never thought the day would come when she would actually miss her brother's presence. He had always been a bothersome thing and the blockade to nearly everything she desired in life. He was father's favorite, after all. She couldn't remember a day after Vlad had been born that their father ever looked at her for longer than a minute.

When her younger sibling had been shipped off to that hack of a school, she had been optimistic, hopeful even. Surely everything had been some sort of scam; it wouldn't have been the first her father had fallen into. It pleased her to think that she would finally be alone with her father and perhaps have the chance to change his mind. With Vlad out of the picture for nearly the entire year, the Count could finally focus more on his daughter.

But that had been a sweet hope and nothing more. It was almost as if Vlad had been born to occupy their father's mind; the Count _still_ thought of nothing but his only son. Ingrid's father had taken weeks to stop absently calling Vlad like he usually did when he had something to share and even longer to stop glancing at the doorways for a small, familiar figure. When Vlad had sent them a letter, the Count had spent nearly ten days trying to figure how to best _begin_ the reply and never mentioned how her brother had asked about his sister's well-being. The only reason why Ingrid knew Vlad had asked about her was because she had come a hairsbreadth away from burning the parchment just to eliminate her father's obsession with it and had unwillingly read the words in the process.

It was sickening to her and so much worse than actually having her brother there. At least when Vlad was home, Ingrid had somebody to snark at, somebody to talk to or insult. Now all she had for company was a disgusting, mortal servant, a wholly insensitive nut for a father, and a talking stuffed hellhound.

Ingrid was slowly going insane and she had no idea how to fix it. How was she supposed to find something to occupy her when the nearest settlement outside of their castle was a Breather village and the nearest vampire was probably too far for her to find?

There came a point she almost considered going down into the village just to talk to somebody – anybody. Ingrid was halfway down their hill before she realized the stupidity of what she was doing and turned around.

How could she stoop so low? She was a vampire. A princess. She lived in a castle, had access to all sorts of luxuries that kings would have died for, and would gain unimaginable power in two years time upon her sixteenth birthday. She shouldn't be feeling the need to associate with _food_.

A traitorous part of her mind began to wonder if this was how Vlad had felt before. He had tried so many times to sneak down into the village. Her brother had always said it was to make a friend and find somebody else to talk to for once and, for the life of her, she hadn't understood.

Perhaps he had been trapped too. Perhaps he had realized that maybe life in a castle could get restrictive.

But that was silly. She had every right to feel that way; father always ignored her. She was a _girl_ and girls were good for only two things in her father's eyes: satisfying males and conceiving children. Vlad, on the other hand, got all of the attention and he was beloved as much as any vampire child could be loved; he was the heir to the Dracula name after all.

So for what reason did he try to escape?

~0~

The following few weeks of school finally found Vlad settling into a comfortable rhythm at Hogwarts. He woke up, ate breakfast while feeding Nox and checking his letters from home, went to classes, studied in the library until ten minutes before curfew, and went to bed. There were a few variations in between that might have concerned a very annoying poltergeist and abruptly moving stairs that deposited him elsewhere but overall, he had established a routine that suited him.

It was, at times, a rather lonely routine. But as much as Vlad wanted somebody to talk to, a friend, he could find nobody around him who would be willing. All of his dorm mates were cordial but pointedly aloof. The other First Year Slytherins were too busy trying to gain favor from the very same dorm mates who avoided him to even consider Vlad an option and the older Years were just completely out of the question. The Gryffindors disliked Slytherins on principle and the few whom Vlad had been hopeful for greeted him but largely avoided him as well. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs probably would have been very open to Vlad at one point, but by the time the young vampire had gathered the courage to approach them, some sort of standard had already developed.

Vladimir Dracula, it seemed, was off limits.

Vlad would have been lying if he said that didn't depress him. The only thing to console him, really, was the fact that nobody thought him _strange._ The other students actually held a sort of respect for him because of his wandless ability and while that was something to be grateful for, such notoriety also set him further apart. People tended to avoid the few who stood out; they preferred to watch from afar as if Vlad was something to be cautious about.

It probably didn't help that Vlad was actually very good in class either. He understood the concepts very well and he passed his written tests with flying colors (something he tried to keep unnoticed). In Potions, he was the top student and the one person Professor Snape had yet to reprimand; even Draco had been corrected at one point or another. Such success set people off even further and the fact that he didn't have a wand in his hand multiplied that sense of awe even more.

When it came to practical application, however, he was slightly slower than the rest when grasping the spells.

A lot of it was due to the nature of his magic. Vlad had finally figured out that his magic required him to truly _know_ what was occurring to fully complete the incantations. Charms came easier to him because they were still doing simple movements, something he could envision and understand completely. But when it came to Transfigurations, he had a much harder time because his mind didn't fully comprehend _why _and_ how _objects morphed. It was something that couldn't be seen, but something to be conceptually observed. Such a fact was one of the reasons why he needed to study and read so much of the textbooks and further. Other student his age might pass by just by virtue of saying the incantation right. But Vlad had to go deeper and see the mechanics of every single spell.

Still, he never failed to complete his in-class tasks because he always stayed ahead conceptually.

Vlad let out a deep breath and closed the text he had been reading for Astronomy. The library was more crowded nowadays with Ravenclaws and occasional Slytherin or Hufflepuff but he still occupied the select corner he had been using since the first day at Hogwarts.

A slight mewl drew his attention and he glanced down to see Nox clambering up. Vlad grinned and picked the feline up.

"I guess you're by best friend right now, huh?"

The cat blinked once. The "I know it" was written all over his face.

Vlad laughed a little and put Nox into his lap. "Look, I'll get you something to eat soon but I just need to finish this last passage." The feline shuffled in place and Vlad yelped a moment later when sharp pinpricks attacked his thighs. "Okay, okay! Bats, Nox. What's stuck in your fangs tonight? You're normally more patient than this."

The black feline slunk up on to the desk Vlad was working on and began to bite one of the many pieces of paper strewn about. Vlad grumbled and extracted the parchment from his familiar's mouth and crossly glared at Nox. "Really? Now you want to abuse my work too? You know I work hard on this stuff, right?"

The cat only swiped a paw at the parchment and moved to bite it again. The Slytherin student jerked the parchment out of reach and watched with a mixture of annoyance and amusement as his familiar fell to the floor. "See? That's what you get."

Nox only straightened himself with a huff and stalked off with his tail held high, forever the stubborn one. Vlad cracked a grin at the feline's antics before finally looking at the paper Nox had been targeting.

He almost groaned when he saw that it was his marked-up calendar and saw that today was Halloween. So that's what Nox had been trying to show him. Today was the day he had promised to actually go to supper on time. The Prefects of his House had not missed the fact that Vlad always showed up late and, at times, missed mealtimes entirely. They had told him that it was alright (so long as he wasn't caught doing whatever he was doing) but on holidays and more important nights, they expected him to arrive promptly and suitably presentable.

By blood and garlic, they were going to kill him. No wonder so many students had left the library early today.

Vlad quickly organized his things and crammed them into his book bag before dashing out into the hall. He prayed that he wouldn't run into Mr. Filch; he hated it when students ran in the hall. Mrs. Norris would be a far more desirable patrol to run into simply because she seemed to only give him a miffed glance before strolling on. Other students had told horror stories of how the cat would catch them and report to Filch but, for some reason, nothing ever happened to Vlad when he ran into her. Perhaps it was Nox. His familiar had probably found a feline friend in the universally hated form of Mrs. Norris.

Vlad cast a quick _Tempus_ as he ran and muttered another thing about blood and garlic under his breath when he saw that he was fifteen minutes late. Who knew that time flew by when studying?

He was just passing by the halls leading up from the dungeons when he heard the first thump.

It was something Vlad passed off as another of Peeves' antics. The poltergeist loved creating bombs and setting them off. But as the thumps continued – each one louder than the last – Vlad began to realize that there was now way Peeves could have amassed _that_ many bombs. And there wasn't the characteristic cackling nor the typical taunting that accompanied each of the poltergeist's escapades.

So if it wasn't Peeves, then…?

The wall just in front of Vlad exploded in a shower of bricks and mortar. He yelled in shock and stumbled on his robe as he threw up his hands in a fruitless attempt to ward off the heavy shards. Several pieces of the bricks caught his arms and Vlad lost his balance as a horrible pain suddenly assailed the side of his head. He blinked incoherently as his vision began to sport black splotches and he tripped on the shambles as he tried to escape. Vlad gagged and threw a hand over his mouth and nose when a sickening stench pervaded the air and his eyes watered at the acrid smell.

The sudden explosion had thrown Vlad off and he was almost too shocked to realize that a gigantic, hulking being now towered over him. The thing's skin had an unhealthy green tinge to it and enormous warts littered the surface. Its head was disproportionately small compared to its body and the only thing keeping it modest was a weathered loincloth around its hips. A single, large club was clenched in its fist and small eyes stared down at Vlad's form.

The only thing Vlad finally managed to think through his hazy mind was the fact that there was a _troll_ in the school.

Then he was shakily scrambling to his feet and running for his life.

The troll seemed to take Vlad's desperate escape as some challenge for it began to follow him with a host of grunts and squeals that wasn't unlike that of an excited pig. Vlad was horrified to realize that one of the troll's strides was enough to cover thirty of his and the weapon it was holding recklessly smashed everything in its way. Remnants of the bits and pieces that the club destroyed showered the hall like rain and several times narrowly missed hitting Vlad. He winced as he realized that his head was pounding and he was dismayed to see that he had no hope of escape.

As he skidded around a corner, he could only hope that the troll was too dull to realize that there was an intersection. The beast's species was one of the dullest on earth and Vlad was hoping against hope that it took his turn as a magical disappearance.

Rounding the bend, Vlad only had time to register a familiar bundle of Slytherin robes and platinum blonde hair before smashing face-first into his Housemate.

"Merlin-!" Draco blurted as he lost his grip on the several books he was carrying and tumbled on to his back. "What in the name of…!"

The blonde didn't have time to continue before Vlad grabbed him and ran. Draco spluttered in indignation and yelled something about leaving his books behind but the young vampire disregarded it. When there was a full-grown mountain troll – for that was what Vlad recognized it to be – on your back, there was no time to pick up some textbooks and apologize for running into your classmate. Right now, Vlad was far more concerned with _surviving._

The wall behind them disappeared in another blast and Draco finally cut off his angry monologue with a scream of "What in Merlin's bloody beard was that?"

They were passing into a set of hallways that Vlad was beginning to recognize as paths leading to the Great Hall. He was relieved for a moment because he realized that, this way, they would finally find help. But then he was struck with a realization and jerked their pathway abruptly away from the Great Hall despite Malfoy's protests.

"What are you doing, Dracula?" Draco yelled above the din of the troll's rampage behind them. "We could have found the professors back there!"

"No," Vlad panted back. He was beginning to tire and his head was pounding harder and harder by the moment. "There are other students there."

Draco gritted his teeth and shouted furiously, "Are you a bloody Gryffindor? Would you rather have us _smashed into a bloody pulp_?"

Vlad didn't find the time to reply as the troll seemed to come to the brilliant conclusion of throwing its club to block their way. It came at them with a loud ruckus for it collided with several obstacles along the way and it was only thanks to that that Vlad reacted and pulled the both of them flush against the wall. It's wooden surface just barely brushed Vlad's sleeve as it sailed by and the two of them stood frozen.

Now an enormous club was blocking their way forward and a dangerous troll was blocking their way back.

Vlad watched in terror as the creature lumbered closer to them and the petrifying information that trolls enjoyed eating flesh – cooked or not – came to the forefront of his mind. His thoughts raced for options, whirled for some escape route, but nothing came to him. All of the magical classes they had taken so far only pertained to simple and mundane things – the sort of things that wouldn't help in a life or death situation.

A part of Vlad was frustrated and wondered if he was going to die here. He, who was born a vampire and magically strong enough to attend a wizarding school. It painted his helplessness in stark colors; never had he felt so helpless about his fate. Only once before had he felt like this and that was when he had realized that he was virtually destined to become an immortal, bloodsucking creature whether he wanted to or not.

Draco seemed just as terrified, if his trembling hand and clammy complexion meant anything. The Malfoy heir was thin-lipped and his eyes flitted back and forth between Vlad and the troll. Vlad frowned suddenly at that observation and narrowed his eyes. Draco seemed scared, yes, but there was also something else there…indecision?

Draco apparently made up his mind when the troll let loose something akin to a war cry and began to charge at them. He tore his arm away from Vlad's grip and whipped out his wand. He pointed it with shaking hands at the troll and hesitated for the briefest of moments before shouting, "_Everte Statum_!" The defensive spell shot itself directly at the beast's chest and smashed upon contact. It seemed to push the troll back for a moment and slowed its charge. But then it shook its head and began to dash ever faster.

Draco let out a small breath of disbelief before he pointed again and shouted, "_Immobulous_!" Again, the spell made contact and froze the troll in its tracks – literally – for a few seconds before it wore off.

"Mordred," Draco whispered to himself in despair. He cast a brief glance at Vlad once more before he seemed to steel himself. This time, his hands were steady as he cast, "_Expulso!_"

For the brief, immobile moment that the spell shot across the distance, Vlad could almost _taste_ how different that particular had been from the previous two. Something about the last one sent a shiver over his skin and a sense of familiarity tinged it, as if it was something he had felt before.

Then it hit the troll on the arm and its appendage burst into a bloody mess of sinew and shattered bone peeking through the muscle.

Almost the moment the spell had left Draco's wand, the blonde collapsed to the floor and Vlad only had a second to gape at what the spell had wrought before he forced himself to run to his classmate's side. As he gripped Draco's head and tilted it towards him, he was relieved to feel a pulse beneath his fingers at the wrist and even happier to see that the Malfoy had merely buckled under the exhaustion of casting a spell far above his abilities. The Exploding Spell was only taught to Fifth Years and even then, not very thoroughly. It was one of the incantations that was considered too Dark in nature to be taught and taxing on those who did not have the magical capability for it. Vlad looked at Draco with slight admiration and abruptly saw just how strong and talented this haughty and seemingly pampered Slytherin was.

A part of Vlad wondered if anybody else in their year could do the same thing Draco had just done.

The young vampire tore his gaze away from Draco's limp form as he heard a keening wail from the troll and realized with growing dread that as effective as the blonde's attack had been, it had been nothing more than a distraction. Now, the creature focused bloodshot and furious eyes upon them again and bared its rotted teeth in fierce determination to destroy whatever had dared to hurt it.

It came closer and closer in a prowl that showed it _knew_ its prey couldn't escape. Vlad couldn't leave Draco now, not after the blonde had done everything he had. And even if he did abandon Draco, Vlad would probably only get as far as the end of the hallway before he was caught and killed.

An uncontrollable sense of panic began to overwhelm Vlad as the troll neared. Each thump of its heavy footfalls sent his heart rate higher and higher. His head was now a mess of pain and he was exhausted from his previous extended run. He didn't know any advanced attack spells like Draco did and he couldn't see or hear anybody close by to turn to for help.

He was alone to face what could be the cause of his death.

The overpowering enormity of the situation made Vlad's breathing harsh and ragged and left him too shocked to even move. He was stuck with Draco's body in front of him. He wondered how the blonde's parents would take their child's death. He wondered how his _own_ family would take his death.

The mere thought of dying, of losing his life was what made Vlad lose it. He had never really known how much he had wanted to live before, but now it was the one thing in the world he wanted above all else – even normalcy.

Vlad didn't really know what happened next. The troll had now come close enough to breathe upon the boys and for a split second, it made contact with Vlad's own pair of blue eyes. In that flash of time, Vlad felt an instinct urging him to keep that gaze and _pull_ it in. He followed without hesitation and then he just felt and _knew_ that he had the troll under his control.

"You will leave us alone," Vlad said slowly and clearly. "You will leave us and not harm us."

The creature stared a few seconds longer before dazedly walking straight past them, picking up its club, and continuing on its way as if Vlad and Draco no longer existed in its world. Vlad didn't dare breathe until the troll had disappeared around the corner. Only then and another eternity longer did he suck in a deep breath and bury and face in his hands to sob.

He had never known how _scary_ death was.

Vlad cried and buried his hands into the folds of his robes. He had never known how horrible it was to be helpless, to just stand there like a bat in headlights. He hadn't been able to do a thing until the very end. Even Draco had managed to gather enough courage to stand and attack first. He was disgusted to realize that a part of him now understood why so many people wanted power. Power kept you from feeling that helplessness; power made it so that you couldn't be helpless.

He wiped his tears away after shoving away his thoughts and snapped his fingers once to levitate Draco's unconscious form. Vlad looked for a moment at the magic he had just done and turned away in bitterness. Fat lot of good the knowledge to levitate something had done him when facing the troll.

~0~

Somewhere along the way up to the Hospital Wing, Vlad ran into a rushed Professor Snape. The man had only taken one look at the Slytherins in front of him before curtly ordering Vlad to follow him with Draco.

The professor took them to his office and, without so much as a few questions here and there about where it hurt, healed the both of them with his supply of potions and healing knowledge. Vlad had been surprised to see the Potions Master so well versed in the healing arts but he didn't question it; the man had already saved them a trip to the Infirmary. After what he had just gone through, Vlad hadn't felt like dealing with a fussy Mediwitch and her endless questions about what had happened.

It almost seemed as if Professor Snape knew what Vlad wanted. As if he knew that sometimes, time was what was most necessary.

"Stay here," the man said sternly before leaving Vlad and Draco to themselves in his office.

It seemed a very long time that the young vampire sat curled in upon himself on a chair in front of the blazing fireplace. He only stared listlessly into the flames and occasionally glanced at Draco's silent form spread out on the couch. It was oddly peaceful and the panic he had experienced facing the troll slowly dissipated into a dull memory that settled like lead in his mind.

Looking back, Vlad had been rather pathetic in the face of danger. Sure, maybe he had finally managed to hypnotize but that meant another step closer to his vampirism. More than ever, Vlad craved normalcy. How, out of all the students in the entire school, had he ended up one of the people to get tangled up in things like this? It wasn't as if he asked to be thrown into reality-defying situations.

"What are you glaring for, Dracula?"

Vlad jumped a little in his seat and whirled around to stare at Draco. "You're awake?"

"Obviously." The blonde smirked at the question before grimacing. "Ugh. I feel like I've been trampled by a herd of hippogriffs."

"Me too."

Draco gave Vlad a cursory look before nodding rather thoughtfully. "I would guess so considering how you look like you've had your head bashed in and your arms look like you've dragged them through a thorn bush."

Vlad couldn't help the slight laugh that the comment pulled from him and he smiled. "Hey, I'm not the one who fainted in the middle of all that."

"At least I wasn't the one standing like a scared girl and I had every right to faint, thank you. That last spell was very advanced, if I must say so myself." A silly grin was painted on Draco's face too for a moment before it melted away into a groan. The Malfoy heir threw his head back and sighed. "Merlin, it must've done a number on my head too. I wouldn't be talking like this if it hadn't."

Vlad shrugged. "I sort of…like it."

"You just don't get it do you?" Draco asked with a wry grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Are you sure the Hat meant to put you in Slytherin?"

"Maybe if I actually knew what you were talking about, I would be able to 'get it'."

Draco only sighed again before shaking his head. "Never mind." Then he looked up again, this time with hardened eyes. "But you won't mention a thing about that last spell I did, right?"

Vlad blinked. "Why not? It practically saved us."

"Flattering, Dracula. But we both know that was a spell I wasn't supposed to know and if the other professors figured out that I'm casting Dark spells in my First Year already, I might as well paint a sign on my forehead declaring myself a target."

Vlad was silent for a moment. He was wondering whether keeping that piece of knowledge from the professors would be wise. Draco had pretty much just said so himself; that sort of spell casting was not allowed and probably for good reason. Yet that Dark spell had saved them and it had been used in self-defense. Surely it couldn't hurt to "forget" to mention it?

"Alright, I won't. But only if you tell me where you learned it."

Draco raised an eyebrow in surprise as if he hadn't been expecting that answer before nodding. "Maybe you are meant to be in Slytherin after all. We'll talk."

But they didn't get much further as Professor Snape returned in a billow of black robes, his face pinched in some sour distaste.

"Of course they would receive points for risking their lives. Just as loose as they were with his father," the professor mumbled to himself.

Draco seemed a little more daring than usual as he asked, "Excuse me, professor? Did you see some other students with that troll?"

The Potions Master turned to the Malfoy heir and didn't answer as he did a quick check-up over the boy's health. Only when nothing of importance came up did the professor reply, "Mr. Potter and his fan, Mr. Weasley, were found in the bathroom with Ms. Granger and an unconscious troll."

"That Mudblood?" Draco sneered in disdain.

"You will _not_ use that word in front of me, Mr. Malfoy." The professor immediately hissed. "Do you understand?"

Draco seemed suitably chastened and actually embarrassed for once as he nodded.

"Yes, they had somehow all survived while luck had helped them defeat the creature. It appeared as if Mr. Weasley had rendered the troll incoherent by levitating the club above its head."

Vlad clenched his hands into fists. His sense of helplessness increased at that statement. Even Ron, who was not the brightest in their classes, had managed to compose himself in the middle of danger and actually make use of the spells he had learned. It seemed that a Levitation Charm would have been of some use after all.

"I will not mention how the two of you were inappropriately outside of the Great Hall during supper tonight," Professor Snape continued. "However, I expect the two of you to be completely _spotless_ in your attendance and timetable now. There is a reason why we have the rules and curfews that we do. If I catch either of you in the wrong places at the wrong time again, I will not hesitate to hand you over to Mr. Filch."

In other words, _don't_ get caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Am I understood?"

Draco and Vlad could only wordlessly nod in reply.

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**I hope that was a better version. I think so :) Anyways now I'm MUCH more satisfied. Sorry for the change again and thanks for rereading this chapter! **

**Till next time!**


	7. The Time in Between

**I do not own anything that could get me sued.**

**Thank you so much to my reviewers! You guys are amazing and I really appreciate the effort you take in writing comments. **

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**Chapter 7: The Time in Between**

The Bloody Baron had never really found any reason to take interest in any one particular student before. They were small, tedious beings who were inexperienced in the ways of life and more often than not remained that way until the day they graduated. In the Baron's opinion, wizards and witches only got interesting when they had a good fifty years or so in their pockets.

Even Tom Riddle had not been particularly eye-catching during his time at Hogwarts. Yes, the boy had been brilliant and the most interesting specimen by far. But when the child's obsession with death had become painfully clear, the Baron had decided to abandon any attempts at getting to know him. If Headmaster Dippet hadn't been clever enough to notice the growing Dark Lord, then the man had just been a fool. It was hardly the Baron's business whether the Wizarding world was condemned because professors hadn't been capable of containing or noticing a corrupt child for seven years straight.

Perhaps it was just the aspect that the students were _living._ They had no grasp on the life after and they had no grasp of the possibility of one day ending up like him. They had concocted their own, ridiculous tales about his death; his bloody appearance provided more than enough for their voracious imaginations. What they didn't understand was that anybody was susceptible to a not-so-happy ending and they continued to live their lives in blissful ignorance day in and day it.

The only beings that the Baron had ever managed to find some entertainment in were the vampire children and perhaps the occasional werewolf. Only a few had ever attended Hogwarts during the time the Baron had haunted the castle; they were rare occurrences – the rarest – but they always managed to bring something _new_.

It almost made the Baron laugh whenever one of the undead's offspring would attend. The witches and wizards of his time had been able to tell when a child was vampire or not but the art had been long forgotten. They had never really known much about such creatures and after a particularly long impasse between their two races, even less had been remembered over the years. They remembered the werewolves, of course; how could they not when every full moon the signs were more than obvious? But vampires were a different story. The fact that vampire spawn could walk among the living comfortably was something that amused the Baron, especially since it was harmless for the first five years.

The undead were always fun to watch; they had some ingrained penchant towards the Darker side of things. Every single one who had come through Hogwarts had been different – one even Sorted into Hufflepuff – but each shared the talent of mischief and destruction. After their sixteenth birthdays, that side of them would grow almost exponentially and the resulting chaos were some of the only things the Baron had left to look forward to in his afterlife.

Yet this side was what was so puzzling about the newest vampire on campus. Or, more specifically, the lack of it.

Vladimir was a vampire; there was no doubt about it. His heart beat and he had blood circulating. He was not-quite-deathly pale and his hair had not quite gained the midnight black that it would be later on in life. But all of those things had been expected. The one thing that hadn't been expected was that this particular vampire had an active _conscience._

And as far as the Baron was concerned, vampires didn't have consciences. It just couldn't be biologically possible. One of the vampire students in the past had even outright told him so.

So why did this boy actually look sorry when he did something wrong? Why was he unfailingly polite no matter who he was talking to? Why had he not even stepped a single toe out of line on purpose yet? Why was he practically the epitome of a good, obedient student?

The enigma was intriguing.

"I don't know why you stare at me like that," Vladimir sighed, not even bothering to look up from his textbook this time. "It's not like I'm that interesting."

The Bloody Baron smiled. "What is wrong with being a little concerned about the well-being of a student in my House?"

"Nothing, if you hadn't been staring at me for the past few _weeks_."

The ghost tutted. "Some would be flattered that I pay so much attention." He floated a little higher to gain a better view of what the vampire was reading and chuckled. "Ah, is the little leech learning how to seduce mortals to his whim?"

Vladimir flushed a brilliant pink and slammed _The Keys to Hypnotism _shut. "I-It's not like that."

"Of course it isn't."

"It isn't! I'm just reading it for – for fun!"

"In the middle of the night huddled under your bed sheets?"

And indeed, the boy was hiding within his drapes while his other Housemates slept around him. The Baron had noticed a long time ago that the child had picked up the vampire-instructing book but only recently had he realized that the boy carried it around like a dangerous bomb to be hidden and to be ashamed of. He never read it outside of the safety of his bed and had only begun to read it after the Halloween incident.

It was hardly a conspicuous book. The title might have seemed dubious, but no other student would automatically assume that the hypnotism instruction was specifically written for vampires. The practice had already been discovered in the wizarding world, albeit a rather archaic one when a much easier Imperious Curse could be used.

"I don't know what you want from me," Vladimir hissed under his breath. "But I would really, really appreciate it if you kept that little…tidbit quiet."

"That you're a vampire?"

"Shh!" the boy begged. "Please. I really don't want the others to know!"

"Why?" the Baron smiled. "Are you ashamed that you're a parasite?"

"Maybe I am ashamed!" the young Slytherin snapped. "Wait – and I'm _not_ one yet! I'm still human! I still breathe and walk in the sun!"

Oh, the boy _was_ disillusioned. And strange beyond doubt. The Baron had never met a vampire who _hadn't_ wanted to be a vampire before. All the others had been proud of their species and had only kept quiet about it in order to avoid prejudice. They accepted that they would one day be true vampires, but this one actively denied it. The child actually thought he was human just because his body was temporarily doing the same functions as a living being.

But this could be one of a kind and the Baron was hardly one to discourage unique situations.

"If you say so."

"I do," Vladimir replied curtly. He opened his book again and turned his back to the ghost. "Now could you please leave me alone?"

The Baron actually contemplated it for a long moment before he settled himself on one of the bedposts and frankly said, "I don't think I will."

~0~

"You look a little tired," Draco said the next morning. "Did you have a bad night?"

Vlad wanted to moan and slam his face into his breakfast. Of course he hadn't had a good night's sleep. How could he when a ghost was harassing him? He hadn't expected the Bloody Baron, of all the undead, to be interested in him. But apparently, the ghost really had noticed that Vlad was vampire during the Welcoming Feast. It was a relief that the Baron hadn't gone and informed anybody else, but after Halloween, it seemed as if the ghost's personal addenda had consisted entirely of "bother Vlad as much as possible".

It wasn't like Vlad enjoyed reading the book either. He had never expected to even _touch_ the thing despite his father's insistence that he study it. But after the troll's attack, something within Vlad had become desperate for some form of control and power to ensure that such a thing never happened again.

"Maybe," Vlad miserably replied to Draco's question.

The blonde scrutinized his dorm mate for another moment before shrugging and turning back to his conversation with the others.

The two of them had yet to consolidate their respective stories after Snape had entered in the middle of the conversation. There just hadn't seemed to be the right time to continue and neither of them seemed willing enough to restart the topic.

But the death-defying experience hadn't been an entire waste. Now Vlad was well aware of Draco's real abilities and Draco seemed more receptive to interacting with the new Romanian student. The blonde was hardly warm and welcoming but at least he now made eye contact and acknowledged Vlad's presence when they passed each other in the halls. For now, that was enough for the vampire; it was progress at least.

"Dracula?" Draco said as the students stood to move towards their first classes.

Vlad looked up in surprise (since when did Draco bother talking to him _twice_ in the morning?). "Yes?"

"I need a word. It won't take long."

The request was strange but if Draco had gone out of his way to say so, Vlad decided that it might be worth listening to. He nodded curtly and the two of them separated themselves from the crowd. They settled into a small, hidden alcove just outside the Great Hall where it would be easiest to speak to themselves and split to their respective classes afterwards.

Immediately, Draco was all business. "Dracula, I'm sure you're busy with your own family this coming Christmas. But both my family and I are in your debt and we would be pleased to invite you to our Yuletide ball over the break. My parents especially; they are very eager to meet the person who saved their son's life."

The announcement was so unexpected Vlad almost dropped his jaw in surprise. "What?"

"Don't make this any harder than it already is," Draco sighed. "Trust me, this is just as uncomfortable for me as it is for you. But now that I owe you a Life Debt –"

"Wait, I thought that didn't count. You saved my life beforehand when you tried to attack the troll."

"_Try_ is the key word there," Draco replied briskly. "I didn't actually stop the troll. I just deterred him and that doesn't exactly warrant a Life Debt. You, on the other hand, actually saved my life." He leveled his gaze to Vlad's. "I'm still wondering how you did that, by the way, but I suppose we will exchange stories when the time comes." A slight smile twisted his lips. "Yuletide, if you're free?"

This was the Malfoy family they were talking about. This would probably one of those parties that involved fancy, expensive clothes, decorations, and everything else that was even remotely involved. It was not even called a party for bat's sake. Draco had called it a _ball_. And, garlic forbid, that meant _dancing _too. Considering the blonde's family, the very Minister himself might end up present along with every other influential family in the Wizarding world.

Hardly Vlad's cup of blood, but this was the very first time a friend had invited him over and probably the first time his father would approve and allow his attendance.

"Thank you," Vlad said with a smile he couldn't quite suppress. "Even if it is just out of gratitude, I'd be glad to accept your invitation."

"Your family is invited too, of course."

Well, that wouldn't do. Vlad was fairly sure his father would leap at the chance to test out magical blood and that wasn't something the young vampire was willing to risk. "Unfortunately, my father is pretty solitary. He doesn't like leaving Romania unless it's very urgent." And Draco had no idea Vlad had a sister, so there was no point in explaining Ingrid's "inability" to attend.

Vlad abruptly frowned just as they were about to split and he quickly asked, "Wait, is Christmas break coming up already?"

That smug smirk of superiority just had to show up on Draco's face. "Have you been buried under a rock all of this time, Dracula? The Gryffindors have only been talking about it for the past month. The break is coming up in a few weeks."

Vlad blinked in surprise. It had seemed like Halloween had happened just yesterday. He shook his head and began walking towards Defense Against the Dark Arts. He really did need to pay more attention to the days.

~0~

"A-and then i-it w-would b-be be-best to apply some Drag-Dragon bl-blood…"

Out of all his classes, Vlad had been surprised and disappointed to learn that Defense Against the Dark Arts was the poorest. He had been excited and eager to learn the subject; it was his main purpose for being here in the first place. If there was a way to avoid the Dark Arts – or anything relating to Darkness overall – he would take it gladly. But after a single day in the class, it had been more than obvious that their professor was unqualified. Half of the lesson, the man spent stuttering and fixing his sentences. Vlad found it far more beneficial to read the class textbook and he did just that whenever he attended the class. It was so bad, Vlad almost paid less attention than he did in History of Magic – and that was saying something.

Sitting alone in the middle of the class did little to alleviate his boredom. Vlad was normally an avid learner and preferred to not be distracted by the comments of his peers, but this was one of the classes that he wished somebody would be beside him to whisper to. But he brushed it off. Sometimes Nox would trail him inside and if his familiar wasn't present, he had his books to attend to.

He guiltily pulled out _The Keys to Hypnotism_ as the professor continued his bland explanation of the many uses of Dragon's blood. Vlad was already ten chapters ahead of this one and he had completed most of his other homework as well. Perhaps he could finish the rest…but he was at a rather crucial point in his reading and Vlad just wanted to complete it. That was it. There was no way he was _interested_ in what he as reading…

As he ran his eyes over the pages, he became uncomfortably aware of an oppressive, stifling presence in the room that he had become accustomed to sensing in the class. At first, Vlad had been alarmed; it felt too much like the Dark artifacts that he passed by at home. But as time passed and nobody was the wiser, he gradually categorized it as a figment of his imagination (that just happened to appear in the same classroom). It was something he couldn't quite describe. It just set his nerves on edge and he was always awkwardly reminded of its intensity whenever Professor Quirrell passed by.

Oh, who was he kidding? He was fairly sure that it was emanating from the professor himself at this point, but Vlad couldn't even tell what it was completely. There was no point in making a big deal out of it. The Headmaster was supposed to be the most powerful wizard aside from Voldemort himself; if the man had done nothing yet, then Vlad had no purpose worrying about it.

Not only did that set Vlad off in the room, but the constant presence of rows and rows of garlic strung from the ceiling made his skin bristle. The vegetables wouldn't hurt him if he did touch them or eat them, but Vlad was still averse to them. He ate them time and time again at home just to prove to himself and his father that he was still not a vampire yet, but he had always secretly despised the things. They tasted horrible – bordering on poisonous – and they made him want to vomit. It made Vlad sick to think about them, but it made him even sicker to think that it was thanks to his strong vampire heritage that caused his hatred of the things. So he endured it and openly claimed that he loved garlic.

And that wasn't even the worst part. Apparently, Professor Quirrell had had a run-in with a vampire during his time in Albania and that did little to settle Vlad's nerves. What had the man been expecting anyway, taking a trip to that country? Everybody knew that it was filled with nasties and the like. Several of Vlad's cousins apparently lived there and it was a well-known fact among the vampires and humans alike that Romania and Albania had a habit of attracting the less-than-savory type.

Considering the man's resulting obsession with the species, Vlad almost had no doubt that his professor recognized his family's name. Who didn't know the name Dracula in Albania?

"I-Interesting book y-you ha-have th-there."

Vlad jerked his head up to stare into the dark eyes of Professor Quirrell and he uneasily smiled. "Just a passing interest, professor."

Quirrell gave Vlad's novel a particularly long glance but eventually turned away and continued with his lecture.

Vlad had to struggle not to shiver and hunch in on himself. Somehow, that eerie presence in the room seemed to have increased during the span of their short exchange.

~0~

"Staying at the castle, Potter? Don't have a family to return to?" Vlad heard Draco tease in the courtyard.

The celebrity flushed and spat, "None of your business, Malfoy." He had his hand poised over the sign-up sheet for in-castle residents for the holidays. "Not everybody is as spoiled as you are."

"At least I won't be spending Yuletide alone, Potter."

"He won't be," Ron snarled from the side. "I'll be staying with him." Harry gave his friend a startled look before gratitude seemed to blossom on his face. It made Vlad sad to realize that Harry was so desperate for company; nobody looked that grateful unless they had reason to.

"That's expected," Draco sneered. "Your family is too poor to handle the whole litter home for celebrations."

At this point, Vlad had come level with Draco's group and he gently but briefly touched the blonde's shoulder as he passed. Draco glanced over at the contact and saw Vlad's disapproving gaze before huffing and saying, "Come on, guys. It's a waste of time speaking to lowlifes like Potter and his pet Weasel."

As the Slytherin group departed, Ron opened his mouth to get the last word in. But Vlad watched as Harry gripped his friend's arm and took them to a different topic of conversation entirely. It was a smart move, distracting the redhead. The young vampire quickly strolled by the two but he was stopped when a hand grasped his shoulder.

"Hey," Harry said tentatively, almost shyly. "Thanks for that. Earlier."

Vlad's exchange with Draco had meant to be surreptitious, and it had been considering none of the other Slytherins had quite picked up on it. Harry must have been perceptive enough to catch what had happened.

"It's nothing," Vlad replied and he continued walking.

The last he heard before reaching the other entranceway was Ron's perplexed voice asking, "What were you thanking _him_ for?"

~0~

Nox yowled rather irritably and slunk deeper into the bed sheets. He kneaded the blankets with his claws and settled restlessly over and over until he finally yawned in satisfaction. The feline had not taken very well to the weather and Nox had not been afraid to show it.

"Come one," Vlad moaned. "Nox, come on. Don't settle down now. I need that space to pack my things."

The cat just blinked owlishly in his master's direction before promptly turning away.

"Really?" Vlad sighed but left his familiar to lounge. His messenger had been working a little overtime lately with the deliveries; his father had been sending letter after letter insisting that his son come home for the holidays. They never celebrated the Christmas season – for what reason did a vampire have to celebrate mortal cheer? – but his father had apparently remembered Vlad's time off. It was almost funny how his father continuously sent reminders as if his son would forget to come home.

It was almost a comforting thought, returning. Vlad would have never thought he would see the day that he would nearly look forward to going back to his family's castle. It was ancient, dusty, and impervious to sunshine but it was home. Still, Vlad would have liked it if his father bothered to clean once in a while. The place was still a damp, dark environment that Vlad believed suited the dead better than the living.

Oh, right. His father _was_ dead – in a manner of speaking.

"We're going back home," Vlad said with a slight grin. "Excited?"

Nox only yowled in irritation.

"Alright, alright. Take your nap. As if your fifteen hours before this hadn't been enough."

That satisfied expression on his familiar's face said it all.

* * *

**So some important tidbits weaved in there, but this was really just as the title said: the time in between. I wasn't going to detail EVERYTHING that happened during the year; you guys can pretty much infer that the classes and studying and everything else are going on the entire time. It wouldn't be much of a story if I just spoke about Vlad's routine day in and day out, right? **

**Anyways, I just thought that a transition would do well. It would be weird if one moment I was at Halloween and the next I'm at Christmas already. It would make it seem like I prefer holidays or something :P**

**For those of you who think that there was no way Draco would have just complied to Vlad's disapproval, just remember that he IS in life debt and that is quite a heavy thing in the Wizarding world. Not only that, but I think that somebody who saved your life kind of warrants SOME degree of respect. So Draco now respects Vlad to some degree and actually bothers to take his opinion into consideration. Note that he doesn't necessarily hold his friends in that same regard. Some of his friends he does respect but the respect somebody gets from getting their life saved is sort of different from day-to-day respect that one develops for a comrade.**

**I hope I made sense there. But I have a nasty feeling I just rambled.**

**Till next time!**


	8. Christmas Party

**I do not own anything that could get me sued.**

**Thanks to Crumcrum for giving me a heads up on one of the mistakes in this chapter!**

**And thank you so much to my reviewers! They are always so inspirational and kind. I really appreciate them!**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Christmas Party**

When Vlad stepped off the Hogwarts Express and on to Platform 9¾, his father was already waiting and eagerly searching the bustling crowd for him. The moment Vlad's foot touched the cement floor, the Count twisted his head in his son's direction and caught sight of him before happily began to motion his son over. Vlad grinned at the sight; his father looked far more like an excited puppy rather than a threatening predator in the moment.

The Count was dressed in his customary crimson and black, no extra layers to keep out the freezing weather. It seemed a little strange in the midst of a crowd of bundled up witches and wizards. But at the moment, Vlad could have cared less. Time away had, apparently, improved his perception of his father's typical strangeness. He glanced around the Count but saw no sign of his sister lingering about; apparently, she had elected not to come again.

"Is that your father?" Draco asked as he pulled his trunk down the train steps, coming up behind Vlad. "Considering what you've said about him and his love of remaining to himself, I would have thought him to turn out a little more…"

"Composed?" Vlad supplied with amusement. "He usually is but that doesn't mean he's a statue."

Draco gave the young vampire a considering glance before shrugging and moving to catch up with his friends. As Vlad watched the blonde wander off, he pulled his own trunk – lightened with a charm of course – over to where his father was waiting. He hadn't considered it before, but he had speaking a lot more to the blonde lately. At least enough for exchanges like the one previous to become customary.

"Oh, Vladdy! It had been so long since I've seen you!"

"It's only been four months, Dad," Vlad grinned. The taste of Romanian on his tongue again was nice after a few months of English. "But it's good to see you too."

"I bet you've learned lots of new things, new spells. I can't wait for you to show me!"

Vlad held out his trunk for his father to hold for the flit back and he laughed a little. "Dad, I haven't learned that much yet. Just a few small things to start off with." It was strange to actually be conversing with his father and _not _be arguing over something; it was probably the first time in years that they had something in common to talk about.

"Still, far better than nothing," the Count mused before gripping his son's shoulder and flitting them both back to their castle. This time, it was even less of an uncomfortable experience for Vlad, but he still wobbled slightly upon their arrival. It seemed it was an acquired taste of travel.

"Master Vlad!" Renfield exclaimed as father and son appeared to materialize out of nowhere in the middle of the castle. "So good to see you again! I've prepared some food for you, specially made!"

Vlad tried not to wince as their mortal servant pulled out a tray of writhing worms dipped in who-knew-what. He had no idea how a human could stand to eat something like that and _not_ suffer from digestive problems. "Uh…thanks Renfield but I ate a little before coming. Maybe later." It was a good thing he had actually done just that. Vlad had figured Renfield would pull something like this again.

The slightly dejected expression the man sported bit a little at Vlad's conscience but he decided that a little damage was better than a stomachache later. He had become accustomed to refusing Renfield's cooking after so many years of doing so already and one more rejection couldn't hurt. Their servant, indeed, just shrugged it off (glad to have the food for himself most likely) and reached down to pick up Vlad's trunk to carry up to the young vampire's room.

"Where's Ingrid?" Vlad asked, glancing about. "Is she alright? You never wrote about her in the letters."

"Oh, forget about her," the Count said absently. "Now tell me, what have you learned? Better yet, show me!"

Vlad shook his head, much to his father's disappointment. "It's really not much, Dad. And it's really not a big deal yet. Maybe later on when I actually know enough to show but I'll practice over the break. That should be enough, right?"

The Count obviously didn't agree but the cold-cut tone of his sister's voice interrupted whatever the elder vampire was about to say.

"Back already, Vlad? Did you actually learn anything useful at that hoax of a school?"

Ah, there was the first reminder of why Vlad had wanted to get out of this castle so badly a few months ago. He had forgotten how cutting his sister had become lately and she seemed to have become all the worse during her stay alone with their father.

Vlad ignored her question and instead goaded, "Glad to have me back?"

Ingrid rolled her eyes and turned around to return to her room. "As if, Breather-lover. I was hoping you wouldn't come back; now you're just taking up more of my space."

"Calm down, children, calm down," the Count impatiently said. "Ingrid, you should be glad to see your brother back. He is, after all, at least learning something useful while all you do is stand around and _breathe_ all day."

Ingrid let out a frustrated shriek at her father's remark and disappeared from the room as quickly as she had come. Vlad frowned at that immediate reaction and eyed his father from the corner of his eyes. Apparently, Ingrid's stay at home alone with their father _hadn't_ been a very good one. She had never behaved so crossly so quickly before Vlad had left. The observation disturbed Vlad a little and a twinge of regret suddenly turned his homecoming sour.

As if sensing his master's unhappiness, Nox butted his head against Vlad's leg and purred affectionately.

Vlad grinned a little at that and rolled his eyes. "You have no right to suddenly act cute and cuddly after your moping the last few days. It's just as cold here as it was at school."

The feline just disregarded the comment and abruptly scrabbled up Vlad's body using his claws as hooks. The young vampire yelped at the prickling sensation and scowled as Nox settled himself across his master's shoulders with a lounging yawn.

"I see you like my gift," the Count commented proudly.

Vlad had to admit that, yes, he did like his familiar very much. "He's been really helpful with the letters and all."

"Of course, of course. Only the best for my son and heir." The elder vampire ran a hand through his black tresses and turned towards the hall leading to his coffin-room. "It's wonderful to have you back, Vladdy. But I am a little tired. It is still daytime after all."

Vlad shrugged. "Glad to be back, I suppose. Go sleep, Dad. I'll see you tonight."

And with that, the Count flitted out of the room, leaving Vlad alone in the room.

As soon as his father was gone, the young vampire sighed and ran his gaze over the castle. Memory really had painted things better than they were. Vlad had forgotten just _how_ dreary this place was and just being back abruptly reminded him of the eleven years he had spent here day in and day out. Before, he had actually considered this castle a cage of sorts because he was so rarely allowed outside. Things were slightly different now, now that he was going to spend the majority of his time at Hogwarts. But Vlad still grimaced at the memories – welcoming and painful at the same time.

Nox nudged his neck a little and kneaded Vlad's shirt as if asking what on earth he was just standing here, doing nothing but staring. Vlad snapped out of his reminiscing and stroked the feline's head, earning another purr.

On his way up to his room, Vlad paused at his sister's door and wondered if what he was about to do was a wise move or not. She probably wouldn't welcome him, considering how she had greeted him earlier. But something told him that going in regardless was needed. He tried to imagine what it would have been like if their situations were reversed and shivered. Given, he had probably wanted to get out far more than Ingrid, but still.

The moment Vlad pushed open the door, a book came flying through the air to smack him squarely on the face. He shouted at the sudden onslaught and groaned, rubbing his face and wondering how long it would take for a bruise to form.

"Aw…did that hurt?" Ingrid smirked from her bed. Nox hissed at the comment but that only served to widen the vampiress' grin. "Look, even your pathetic excuse for a cat has to defend you now."

Vlad scowled but refrained from retorting; that was what she wanted. He had learned over the years that Ingrid often said the things she did because she wanted a certain reaction. Clearly, she was trying to push him away.

"I just wanted to say hello."

"We've lived together for eleven years, Vlad," Ingrid deadpanned. "I think I've seen your face more than I've ever wanted to."

Bats, she really did make this difficult. "I was wondering how things were at home while I was gone – that's all."

"Two words: Get out."

"Come on, Ingrid –"

"Vlad, I'm going to give you till five before I throw something else at you."

So much for greetings. Vlad reluctantly complied and began to turn around with Nox still hissing over his shoulder. Just as he was closing the door, he heard his sister's grudging voice say, "Oh, get back in here."

Vlad gave a hopeful look back into the room.

"Do you want me to kick you out again?"

Vlad just gave her a brilliant smile and quickly crossed the room to clamber into bed beside her. He snuggled up close to her then smiled a little wider at the familiar scent of ashwood. For as long as he could remember, Ingrid had always smelled like that and when he was younger, he had always associated that scent with some upcoming "playtime" with his elder sister. Now things were different but it was still good to remember.

"Ew, gross. I don't need you smearing your Breather love all over me."

"You love it," Vlad grinned back.

They remained in place like that, silent and oddly comfortable in each other's presence like they hadn't been in a long time. Those months apart had done the exact opposite of separating them; it seemed as if they were now more acutely aware of each other than they had been before when seeing one another had been too much the norm.

"You know how boring it is to be alone in a house with Dad, Renfield and your stuffed dog?"

Vlad grimaced in sympathy. "I can imagine." Then, "Hey! Zoltan is great company!"

"He's stuffed, Vlad."

"Doesn't mean you should ignore what he has to say."

Ingrid rolled her eyes. "I think I'm regretting allowing you to stay already." She glanced slightly to the right of Vlad's head and frowned. "Your cat needs to be tamed or something. It's creepy."

Vlad looked at Nox and saw that he was staring rather intently and almost warily at his sister, as if he was looking at something to be cautious about. The feline was tense and barely moving a muscle.

"Nox, what's wrong?"

The feline blinked once before turning to look at Vlad. Then he shook his head as settled his head into the crook of his master's neck.

"I don't know what's wrong with him," Vlad said a little helplessly. "He's normally not like that."

"The thing never liked me anyway," Ingrid said, her lips pursed.

"Maybe it's because you call him an 'it', Ingrid. He has a name."

His sister turned away bitterly and suddenly Vlad wanted to bit his own tongue. Of course she didn't like Nox. He had been a gift from their father – a gift that she knew the Count never would have gotten her or would ever get her. It was incredibly tactless of Vlad to pursue the subject like that.

In an effort to repair the damage, Vlad hastily asked, "So what did you do to keep yourself from getting bored?"

There was an air of disinterest about Ingrid now, as if she was trying to just go through the movements of conversation. "Nothing, really. I might have taken up writing dark poetry."

Vlad gave her a long, disbelieving look. "Really?"

"No, you idiot. I study for the Blood Test. I'm taking it in a few months."

Vlad immediately regretted asking. The Blood Test was a written test testing a young vampire's knowledge of vampiric law and protocol to ensure that they Turned with the proper knowledge. Vlad had every intention of failing it when it came to his turn to take it because failing it meant less of a chance of becoming too strong a vampire. But he knew it was his sister's every determination to pass with the highest score possible.

"You should go unpack," Ingrid finally said as the discomfort between them increased. "I don't want you in here any longer than you need to be."

This time, Vlad quietly left.

~0~

During his idle days at home, Vlad had figured out the many uses of utilizing magic in his everyday life. He no longer had to stand up to pick up things from afar; all he had to do was snap and summon it over. Small things like stirring his drink only required him to absently motion his hand in small circles over the cup to mix the liquid without he need of a utensil. When he studied, he had found a way to keep his books levitating around him and open to the page needed which made writing his essays far easier.

His father, ecstatic at the displays of magic, had taken the time to teach his son how to light candles with only a snap like he often did when brightening a room. Vlad had found it surprisingly easy to learn and soon, he was doing just that every time he need some flame to lighten the room. The Count had also tried to teach Vlad how to fly as well but the younger vampire had promptly refused. It was bad enough that he was lighting candles like a vampire; there was no way he was getting any closer than necessary.

At one point, the Count had asked whether Vlad had taken the time to read through _The Keys to Hypnotism_ he had bought but Vlad had replied negatively. The truth was actually quite the opposite; he had finished the book before arriving home. Vlad had yet to actually try hypnotizing anybody else after the troll because he detested the idea but he was uncomfortably familiar with the workings of it now. That traitorous part of his mind told him that he would, actually, succeed brilliantly if he did try though.

A part of Vlad was screaming at him to stop – to stop learning this magic. It was making him even more abnormal. Ingrid was more normal than he was at this point considering she couldn't do any magic at all. But another, larger part kept him going. Magic was fascinating and if he just stuck to the wizard magics, he wouldn't exactly be going down the vampiric path. There were plenty of wizards who led completely normal lives in the human world. Magic was just a nice bonus on the side for them. Surely Vlad could do the same.

He was actually getting some headway on how to get out of becoming a vampire at sixteen. He had come across some books regarding vampires and plenty of books that spoke of how to avoid the Dark Magics.

Okay, maybe he hadn't. Maybe every single vampire book he had read so far was either completely inaccurate or simply ridiculous. Maybe every piece of advice he had read had been contradicted with knowledge he had learned as a child. Maybe he was getting nowhere at all so far regarding his escape from eternal life as a vampire.

But some stubborn part of Vlad told him that if he kept going, he would find something. He would. He had to. Where else would he find information valuable enough to help him escape? If he coludn't find anything with the wizards…

Vlad honestly tried not to think about what would happen if he didn't.

When Christmas was just two days away, Vlad finally came around to informing his father that one of his schoolmates had invited him over for a "small celebration." His father had eagerly given his consent and when Vlad had tentatively mentioned that some formal Wizarding attire just _might_ be needed, he had immediately dragged his son back to _Drusilla's and Tessa's_ to have an entire set of formal Wizarding robes tailored.

Vlad received a letter from Draco by regal eagle-owl (of course) the day before Yuletide. Inside was a formal invitation along with a pair of titanium cufflinks to act as gifts from the Malfoys and Portkeys to their estate the night of the ball. Needless to say, his father had been more than pleased to discover that Vlad had made acquaintances with a family wealthy enough to provide such luxurious gifts.

The night of, Vlad spent a grand total of two hours to figure out how to properly put on his formal attire and even longer to wrap the gift he had bought for the Malfoys. Getting them a gift had just seemed to make sense in Vlad's mind. After all, weren't they throwing a ridiculously expensive party and inviting him? It would have been just awkward going without something to give back despite what the Malfoys owed him simply because Vlad felt that they _didn't_ owe him anything; he had done the only possible thing facing the troll and that had been that.

When the clock chimed seven thirty, his father flitted up to his room with a broad grin on his face. "Ready to go, Vladdy?"

Vlad grinned lopsidedly. "You tell me." He hoped he had put everything on right. He knew how to put on formal attire for vampire occasions but Wizard robes had actually turned out to be – impossibly – more complicated.

The mere fact that Vlad had asked his father for advice made the Count smile in excitement. It had taken too long, in the elder vampire's opinion, for such a thing to occur. Never in their years as father and son had Vlad asked for clothing advice before.

"It suits you," the Count said. "Only the best for –"

"– for your son and heir, I know, Dad," Vlad completed. He was just glad that Ingrid hadn't been there to hear the saying for the umpteenth time. "What time do you want me home?"

The Count gave his son a scandalized look. "You _want_ me to give you a time restriction?"

"You don't want to give me one?"

"Of course not, Vladdy. Why, I would only give you one for you to break it and come home much later. Stay as long as you like and wreak havoc!"

By his father's ecstatic smile, Vlad could figure that the elder vampire thought he had just delivered the best news of the night. It just made the younger vampire slightly sad at yet another reminder that they were far from a normal family. Normal parents gave curfews. Only vampire parents wanted their children to stay out until dawn broke.

"I'll see you, Dad," Vlad replied curtly and a little detachedly. He felt slightly guilty at his father's crestfallen expression but he looked away and pressed a finger to the cufflinks at his wrist.

"_Crăciun_."

~0~

Nobody had ever told Vlad that travel by Portkey was worse than flitting. At least when flitting, you stayed upright while moving a million miles an hour. A Portkey spun you around as if you were in some twisted permanent game of merry-go-round while moving at a million miles an hour. The only thing that kept Vlad from falling on his face from dizziness upon arriving was his previous experiences in flitting with his father. He had learned to keep his eyes closed at the arrival point and to take a few breaths before finally orienting himself.

It was a good thing too; the Portkey had delivered him right at the entranceway of the grand staircase leading down to the ballroom where everybody below would have been able to see his blunder.

Vlad couldn't help but stare for a few moments at how elegantly and affluently the entire room appeared. The color scheme consisted of darker colors, a sort of mossy green interlaced with accents of platinum and the occasional gold. The stairs and various buttresses were made of pure marble and the dance floor was polished to a gleaming sparkle. A large but not overly audacious chandelier glittered lowly with flickering flames and various tables laden with delicacies hid themselves among the shadows beneath the second floor.

It certainly didn't look like the typical Christmas celebrations Vlad often saw the people down at the local village back in Transylvania had. The only thing that really signified it to be in any way connected to the holiday were the enchanted snowflakes that fell lazily and unnoticeably onto the ballroom below and the icicles that decorated the overhanging.

But decoration mattered little to Vlad. The only thing he was actually concerned about now was the fact that the crier was still extending his hand for the invitation dictating his title and the upcoming danger of tripping down the stairs and falling on his face in front of hundreds of undoubtedly influential witches and wizards. He almost wished that he had brought his father along just for this. If he had, the Count would be the one dealing with the public introduction and Vlad would have been allowed to just simply enter the ball quietly without any fanfare. He was the only one of his family here to represent and therefore he was required to step down the stairs upon the crier's declaration for all to see.

It was at times like this that Vlad was grudgingly grateful for his father's tuition on "all things proper for such nobility like themselves." He placed his invitation with only a slight flush in his cheeks to betray his embarrassment and managed to make his way down to the main floor upon the crier's saying, "Vladimir Dracula, heir to the Dracula House and name!"

It took a few minutes for Vlad to stop feeling self-conscious and just a few minutes more before a small tap upon his arm drew his attention.

"Good to see you made it without falling on your face," Draco greeted.

Vlad gaped at the comment and then scowled. "You made the Portkey drop me off at the top of the stairs on purpose. What if I had tripped or something? That was the first time I'd traveled by Portkey, you know."

Draco gave him a strange look. "Really? Maybe I did put the Portkey's destination there on purpose but I thought you'd have traveled that way before. I thought for sure you had if you didn't have a Floo Network in your house."

Oh, travel by Portkey must be one of those things that all wealthy wizards or witches did as children. Vlad certainly couldn't explain that his family consisted of vampires and therefore had no need for Portkeys. He quickly shrugged and said, "It's never been needed before." Then he scowled again. "But you _did_ do that on purpose."

"I just _suggested_ it to my parents, Dracula." Obviously already bored with the topic, Draco asked, "So how do you like it?"

"Considering I've been here for about ten minutes? It's pretty nice. I like your home."

The Malfoy heir raised an eyebrow. "Is that really the best you can come up with?"

Vlad rolled his eyes. "Says the one who made my Portkey trigger 'Christmas' in Romanian. Even I could have come up with something more original."

"Again, it was my parents who actually constructed the final product."

Vlad grinned a little and wondered if this was what it felt like to have a normal conversation with a normal person his age. He never would have imagined some of his first with Draco Malfoy of all people. The blonde was a right prat at the beginning but hey, maybe saving the guy's life was all it took to bring out the decency in him.

"Come on," Draco motioned. "We shouldn't be just standing around. My parents would probably be angry if I didn't bring you over to introduce you to them."

"Wait, you want me to meet them _now_?"

"When else are you going to meet them?" the blonde asked in exasperation. "When the party's over?"

Vlad had actually been hoping for never. It was uncomfortable enough that they had felt obligated to provide him with an invitation and gifts but now they wanted to formally meet him as if this was some occasion to warrant such a thing. The only time vampire parents met was in passing during festivities or when their children were going to _marry_.

Draco led Vlad around the dance floor where couples were swaying to the music from the live ensemble and the young vampire absently hoped that dancing wouldn't be something he was expected to do. He was fairly sure vampire dances were distinctly different from the typical wizard dances.

When they pulled up, Draco's parents were in the middle of a light conversation with another couple. Vlad was struck by how vastly contrasting the two pairs were; one blonde with almost identical, stormy gray eyes and another with dark hair and equally dark eyes. The Malfoys stood and carried themselves like the many noble vampires Vlad had met in his life, exuding confidence and a general conviction concerning their superiority. It irked Vlad a little bit, their exceedingly elitist mindset, but he set it aside for now for the sake of creating a decent first impression.

"Mother, Father," Draco intervened. "I am sorry to interrupt your conversation but you told me that you wanted to meet Vladimir Dracula as soon as possible."

"Indeed," Draco's mother smiled. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Vladimir. My name is Narcissa and I am forever in your favor for rescuing my son." There was a slight sincerity beneath that perfectly constructed expression of welcome.

"I must say the same," Draco's father said in a far more controlled and grave tone.

Vlad was momentarily struck with the horrible realization that he wasn't quite sure what wizards normally did in situations like this. Was he supposed to extend a hand? Was he supposed to introduce himself even though they already knew his name? He ended up falling back on what he had been taught growing up and instead bowed stiffly at the waist and replying, "It is nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Thank you for inviting me here. It is very lovely." He decided to follow Draco's judgment on his bland vocabulary regarding the ball; he just hoped "lovely" was enough to please his parents.

"Oh, you are the child who rescued young Draco," mused the woman the Malfoys had been speaking to. "You are a very polite young man." She smiled at him, the same perfect expression of welcome, and said, "My name is Vesta Zabini and this is Artro Rincewind." Vlad glanced at the man she had on her arm and noted that he hadn't been introduced as the husband. So they weren't married – interesting.

He too gave Ms. Zabini the same greeting before he was relieved to hear the Malfoy patriarch dismiss them to "allow them time to themselves."

"I wouldn't look so happy," Draco said with a slight smirk as they drew away. "That is just my father's way of saying he'll meet up with you again for a longer conversation."

Vlad grimaced at the thought. "Um…that's great."

But Draco was already on a different line of thought. "So what would you like to do for the rest of the night?"

Vlad was a little curious as to why the blonde was sticking to him for the night. It was clear that he wasn't going to just leave Vlad alone to fend for himself. While Vlad was glad for the attention, he was also a little confused because he hadn't expected Draco to go to such lengths even with the Life Debt hanging over his head.

"What about Theo, Blaise, and the rest?" Vlad mentioned. "Aren't they around?"

Draco gave him a considering look, probably wondering why Vlad would want to spend time around the very same people who had been ignoring him for months. They still hadn't spoken to the young vampire very much. After the troll incident, it had only been Draco who had taken the effort to speak with the Romanian student.

"They're in a different room," Draco merely said. And then they were exiting the ballroom, leaving the main entourage behind.

* * *

**This has to be the most pathetic title I have written to date...and that's saying something considering my paltry skill of naming my chapters. Because honestly, only a portion of this was about the Christmas party and even then it's only the beginning of it ****(the core of it will be next chapter)**. Haha...well, it's like one in the morning so I guess I'll just let it go.

**Anyways I got a little carried away with Vlad's homecoming. I had only intended it to be brief-ish but ended up putting some Vlad and Ingrid sibling fluff in there. Even then it wasn't really that fluffy...more awkward than anything else. :P**

**Ended up being another transitional chapter, really. Well, interesting stuff pops up next chapter (unless I get carried away with the small details again)!**

**Till next time!**

**PS I sort of used Google Translate for the Romanian word for Christmas. I don't know if it's actually accurate (considering how inaccurate Translate can be sometimes...I tried it for Spanish once and it came out completely weird). So forgive me if it's completely off.**


	9. The Mirror of Ssen Krad

**Whoa. It has been forever. I'm sorry about that :( Exams, you know. **

**I do not own anything that could get me sued.**

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**Chapter 9: The Mirror of Ssen Krad**

Narcissa Malfoy watched as her son walked away with the Dracula boy beside him. It had been a quick introduction, nothing more. But she thanked Merlin that the boy who had saved her son's life hadn't been a complete disgrace. True, she had known beforehand that Vladimir was a Slytherin, powerful, and top of his classes but from the way Draco had previously described him in letters home, she had anticipated a much less cultured specimen.

"Darling, would you please get me a drink?" Vesta smiled sweetly up at her latest victim. The poor man. He certainly seemed well bred – and wealthy of course. But then again, the Black Widow never chose anybody of lesser status than she.

Not that many of the women in their circles minded what Vesta Zabini practiced. It was, perhaps, slightly distasteful at times but it was the woman's method of achieving wealth and power. And all of them knew that such a goal _was_ worth killing for.

After Artro Rincewind had gone off to appease his partner, Vesta neatly turned to the Malfoy heads and smirked. "He's such a dear. I haven't had a polite one in a while." Then her amused expression turned pensive as she considered the two before her. "Was that the First Year Romanian student?"

"Indeed," Lucius replied curtly.

"Ah…Blaise _has_ mentioned him once or twice. Talented, I hear. And I have looked into his family's background per my son's request."

It was difficult for Narcissa to keep her curiosity in check. She wished to ask, but she knew Vesta would reveal what she had found without too much prompting. The two of them were close enough and Vesta's ability for attaining information was the only reason why Narcissa had even revealed what had transpired during Halloween. Nobody else knew for Draco had kept from informing his friends about the incident and Lucius had insisted that the entire situation remain behind curtains for now. It was a trade of information; Vesta now knew who had the ability to save the Malfoy heir from a troll and Narcissa would soon know what there was to know about the Dracula child.

The beautiful Italian woman pursed her lips into a slightly amused lilt when Narcissa did not push. "I have found little. But enough to know that the boy was not lying when he told my son that his family is wealthy."

That was rare. Vesta had quite the arsenal of information at her fingertips considering the amount of people she had in her debt. Several older generations of witches sniffed at her methods of seducing the knowledge that she desired or stored for later use but even they knew that Vesta Zabini was one of the people to speak to should they want the little facts that few were privy to. Even Lucius was not open to as wide a range of secrets for, as influential as he was, even he could not reach or entangle himself in all manners of people like Vesta could. It was rare for the woman to come up empty-handed.

"Interesting boy, that Vladimir Dracula," Vesta murmured with a slight smile.

~0~

Vlad was starting to think that electing to spend the rest of night surrounded by Draco's friends was not such a good idea. He had blurted it out in the spur of the moment when the blonde had asked what to do next and that had been the first to come to mind. He had felt guilty for keeping Draco from his normal group of acquaintances. After all, who would want to babysit a newcomer like him for a whole celebration?

But the more Vlad thought about it, the more he realized that doing this just might have been the worst decision possible. Sure, Draco could now see his regular friends, but with Vlad in the way, what were they going to do? He had noticed more than once how oddly silent and off-topic things got when he was around. The only reason Draco had even begun to speak to him normally was due to a life-and-death situation. And as much as Vlad wanted friends in his life, he wasn't going to face another troll just to win another of the group's sympathies.

"Here we are," Draco finally said after they had crossed two long corridors. "My parents usually prefer that all of us spend time out in the main hall but they understand that sometimes we need some time away. So this is where we usually go."

Vlad eyed the large double doors that no doubt lead into a smaller but still majestic venue. He took a slight breath and managed a grin before saying, "That's awfully nice of them."

"Hardly," Draco shrugged. "According to my parents, children are very…restless when they have nothing to do. Most of us will have to stay in the hall when we get older but for now, people won't miss us."

As the Malfoy heir swiftly opened the doors, Vlad was mollified to see that the room was actually much smaller and cozier than what he had imagined – almost reminiscent of the Slytherin dorms – but that did little to comfort him once he saw the several pairs of eyes swinging in his direction simultaneously. All of them – Theo, Blaise, Pansy, Goyle, Crabbe, and another girl Vlad barely recognized – were dressed in fine dresses and robes. The very air of the room almost reeked of privilege and affluence and Vlad found it a little strange to see the lot of them outside of classes. They didn't seem startled to see Draco; they had probably been expecting him for some time. But when all of their eyes settled upon Vlad, a collective flash of surprise flitted across their expressions. Clearly, they hadn't been expecting him to be here.

The girl Vlad could not quite name had blonde tresses neatly and elegantly curled just a little longer than shoulder-length and her electric blue eyes scanned him in a slightly different version of appraisal from the rest. She hadn't been there when he had conversed with the group their first night at Hogwarts and the few classes she shared with Vlad always had her at the opposite end of the room.

Vlad blamed his uncontrollable mouth when he blurted into the silence, "Hello."

Everybody seemed to take a collective blink before a slight snicker had Vlad whirling around in surprise. It was rare to hear Draco express anything greater than sardonic amusement and the lighthearted and sincere laugh coming from the Malfoy heir's mouth made Vlad want to gape.

"Dear Merlin," Draco finally grinned. "Sometimes I do wonder how you landed here."

"Here" could mean a multitude of things. "Here" could mean this immediate room. "Here" could mean at this particular party. "Here" could mean being in Slytherin. Which one Draco was referring to, Vlad didn't really know but he was gratified to hear that it hadn't been necessarily said with malice.

The slight guffaw on Draco's part had turned out to be a rather brilliant move. Looking back, Vlad realized that even that action hadn't been outside of the Malfoy's calculations. Perhaps it had been done on purpose; perhaps it hadn't been done on purpose. Either way, Draco's apparent ease with the Slytherin oddity caused the others to relax slightly. If the Malfoy heir wasn't worrying about Vlad in his home, then the rest of them didn't have much to worry about as well.

"Draco, I never knew you were so mean to guests," the unknown girl scolded. Then she turned to Vlad and offered a reconciliatory smile. "It is nice to meet you. My name is Daphne Greengrass."

Pansy quickly cut in before Vlad could reply in kind. "Oh, Draco! We were so _bored _waiting for you here! Did you really take all that time to bring…him here?"

Well, _somebody_ clearly didn't approve of Vlad. Not that it was truly a surprise to the young vampire. If anything, he had expected a much harsher greeting. The mere fact that the rest of the group had yet to say anything against him was relief enough. Or perhaps they were courteous enough to realize that Draco had invited Vlad for a reason and had enough decor to restrain themselves.

"I'm sure," Draco muttered back. He glanced at Vlad and then briskly motioned to an open chair. "Why don't you take a seat? We are probably going to be here for the rest of night."

As Vlad seated himself where indicated, Draco himself settled in a two-person couch beside Blaise. Looking at the Italian boy reminded Vlad of the other woman he had met when greeting Draco's parents and he curiously commented, "I think I met your mother, Blaise."

"You did," Draco supplied. He glanced over at the Italian and shrugged. "Your mother just happened to be there, Blaise."

A wry touch of amusement flitted across Blaise's face. "Was she courteous?"

Something about that comment made the rest of the occupants in the room smile knowingly and Draco merely replied, "She was nice enough."

Theo whistled softly. "So she liked him."

Nobody commented but something about that piece of information had weighed rather heavily in the air. As if it was important. As far as Vlad was concerned, it hadn't really meant much but he hardly knew enough about the Zabini matriarch to pass judgment.

The uncomfortable air died down after Blaise began another topic and Vlad allowed himself to just listen. He had tried being a part of the conversation before and he figured that it would probably be best if he just remained in the background for now. It felt almost comfortable as time went on and Vlad allowed his eyes to wander the room, roaming the furniture and the ornate architecture. It wasn't particularly fascinating; Vlad was used to such things. But it passed the time and it was almost a miracle within itself that he managed to sit so securely amongst his fellow Slytherins.

Draco must have picked up on Vlad's disconnect from the conversation after some time had passed and, being the well trained host, asked, "Vlad, would you like to visit my family's treasury?"

The young vampire blinked at the question before he haltingly asked, "Your treasury?" Wasn't that supposed to be a rather private thing – for Malfoy eyes only?

"We've all seen it," Pansy whined.

"Hush," Daphne scolded her year mate. "He is Draco's guest and if he wants to see it, then we will accompany him."

"I wouldn't want to be any trouble," Vlad hastily said. "I am fine here."

"My parents would want me to show it to you," Draco insisted. "It isn't much. Just some trophies here and there."

Ah…so that was what he had meant when he had said "treasury." Vlad had misunderstood for a moment. To him, a treasury meant a vault of some sort holding, well, treasures. This, though, he understood well enough. His own father liked to display some of his own flashier possessions back in Transylvania. It was a good show of wealth – and power. A not-so-subtle way of showing off what you have.

"You know what," Draco finally said. "I'll summon the house elf. That way you won't think you're causing us too much trouble." And before Vlad could protest again, the Malfoy heir called out, "Dobby!"

The sudden _crack!_ in the room made the young vampire jump in his seat before he was staring at possibly one of the strangest creatures he had yet to come across. And that was saying something considering he had once seen a troll.

The little thing was the furthest thing away from Vlad's idea of an elf as it could possibly be. Its skin was a wrinkly sort of brown, worn down from constant work. Large, bat-like ears hung on either side of its head and it wore a single, filthy pillowcase to protect its modesty. The only thing that seemed redeemable about the creature was its huge eyes, glistening with a bright curiosity and intelligence that Vlad would not have thought possible in a servant like itself.

Its pitiful state tugged at Vlad's conscience and he wanted nothing more than to stand up indignantly and shout at Draco, about how cruel this was. He had seen how some of the vampires back home had taken to keeping "pets" around and it disgusted him to see humans reduced to nothing more than walking meals. This situation was painfully similar. But Vlad knew better than to burst into a tirade now. He wanted to – _so _badly – but if he just let go of his thoughts in the middle of a party filled with Slytherins, there was little chance that he would leave unscathed.

"I want you to show Dracula, here, around the treasury." The blonde's eyes narrowed at the house elf and he hissed, "And _only_ the treasury, got it? Then bring him back. I don't want my parents to think I just left the guest to the servant all night."

"Yes, Master Draco," the elf muttered, its eyes downcast. It then turned to Vlad and held out a hand. "Take Dobby's hand, sir. Dobby will show you."

The young vampire gave the room one last cursory look before gingerly gripping the tiny hand. He only had a moment again to prepare himself. And then they were gone.

This time, Vlad felt like he was being squeeze through a tube. It was as if he was being stretched like moldable candy before he came back together in an abrupt snap again. He stumbled as the world righted itself and let out a slight gasp at the sensation. He was getting really sick of all these methods of travel. Couldn't people just come up with something simple that didn't involve fiendishly fast speed, little objects that carried you away in a whirlwind, and some form of teleportation that squished you like toothpaste?

"Dobby is sorry, sir, that you feels uncomfortable, sir. But that is how all apparition feels, sir."

Vlad waved it off, smiling a little shakily at the little creature. "It's okay, Dobby. Thanks for explaining, though."

The elf seemed to freeze at the vampire's words and, for the briefest of moments, Vlad worried that he had said something wrong. Its eyes stared at the vampire's face for the longest time with incredulity, shock, and the tiniest bit of wonder etched on to its expression. Then the small being abruptly burst into tears, sobbing loudly into its hands.

"Oh, bats," Vlad muttered. "Dobby, Dobby! Look, I'm really sorry if I said something wrong. Dobby, can you hear me? I really didn't mean it! I'm sorry! Can you please stop crying?"

"You's a great w-wizard, Mr. Dracula, sir," the elf wailed. "N-no wizard has ever t-thanked Dobby before, sir!"

The admission made Vlad's heart shrink a little in sympathy as he knelt down to Dobby's height and tried to catch the elf's attention. "You don't have to start crying because of that, Dobby. It's not a big deal."

"Y-You's a great wizard, sir!"

It went back and forth like that for who-knew-how-long. After a while, Vlad began to wonder if elves had unlimited tear production and he felt a little frazzled by the entire thing. It was lucky that Draco's group had not come along because the vampire had not known that this would be the reaction if he thanked an elf. He just thought it was common courtesy, but now that he thought about it, it made sense that Dobby had never been thanked. Servants, slaves, were never thanked because it was their duty to serve. Nothing more, nothing less.

Finally, when Dobby had ceased crying, they began to walk down the corridor the elf had Apparated to and it was no small relief to Vlad that the little servant began to busy itself with explanation upon reaching a large set of double doors.

"This is the Malfoy treasury, sir. Lots and lots of Malfoys beings here. They stash lots of things, sir." Dobby turned and the doors seemed to open of their own accord, a wisp of magic brushing past Vlad's face.

As the elf led a sort of tour around the treasury, Vlad couldn't help but stare a little in awe. He had seen his fair share of such displays but the novelty of seeing a wizard's stock made his stomach flutter a little. There were different things, like enchanted cups or swords or necklaces that lined display cases. A great variety of objects ranging from worn books and delicate forks to grand statues and works of art filled the gigantic room. Vlad could feel the potent magic in the air and he shivered every time it caressed his skin. Vampire treasuries were actually very similar to those of wizards; the only difference was that vampires tended to hoard a few more decapitated heads than was strictly necessary.

After a time, Vlad began to tune out Dobby's voice and just absently followed the servant while looking about. It was fascinating to say the least, but this place _was_ built for showing off. It was to be expected.

They were passing by a particularly elaborate painting of Draco's ancestor, Pavo Malfoy, when Vlad felt a sudden wave of particularly fierce magic. He froze in his steps as he shuddered from the sensation before slowly turning to stare at the painting again. The magic continued to pull, making him walk closer, making him feel compelled to do so. The moving painting itself spluttered as Vlad drew nearer, complaining about keeping a respectable distance or something along those lines, but the vampire's mind was engrossed in the pull. He vaguely felt something insistently tugging on his sleeve, and then a small surge of magic came from that slightly annoying distraction. Vlad easily batted it away with his own magic and the cries of "please don't, Dracula sir!" did not reach his ears.

Vlad placed his fingertips upon the frame of the painting and looked into the painting's eyes. "Show me what you keep hidden." The words fell unbidden from his lips, as if something else had pulled it from him.

"By Merlin's graciousness!" sniffed the aristocrat. "I daresay! The youth of the times are ludicrous! Speaking to a Malfoy like myself! Who are you, insolent child? Leave me in peace!"

"Show me what you keep hidden." It was like Vlad hadn't even heard the man's words.

"Morgana and Circe! Do you know no manners –"

"_Incendio_," Vlad murmured, as if he were whispering a beautiful secret rather than a burning spell. His eyes traced the flames with hazy fascination while they began to lick the corners of the painting.

"Mordred's…!" exclaimed the Malfoy patriarch. "By gods, boy, what are you doing? You can't just – no, no! Put out that fire before I burn, you fool!"

But the young vampire just watched as the flames drew closer and closer to the man, smiling a little when the figure's eyes widened in shock at his inability to leave the picture frame when he tried.

"Very well! Very well! Merlin, just put out that flame!"

The painting suddenly began to fade and then Vlad felt his grip on the painting's frame disappear as his hand sank in like there was nothing there. He wasted no time in stepping inside and banishing the flame spell behind him.

The hidden room was simple and bare, almost small enough to be considered a normal storage location. The only thing occupying the entire place was a single, large mirror that shone despite its tarnished framework. It was only when Vlad was finally standing in front of the mirror and looking at his reflection that he snapped out of his daze and full realization of what he had done slapped him.

"Oh, garlic," Vlad groaned. What was this? What had just happened? It had occurred in a mist; his mind had been so clouded. It seemed to make sense at the time, doing what he had done. But now he knew he was doing something completely against his host's wishes and he desperately hoped the manor would not turn against him. He had read about how wizards' homes were sentient to some extent thanks to how saturated they were with magic. The particularly old manors were dedicated to their master's wishes and Vlad had no doubt that the Malfoy home was exactly like that.

Not only that, but he had completely abandoned Dobby behind. If Draco or his parents or anybody got wind of this, the elf would be punished even more so than himself. He could only hope that Dobby had enough sense to just wait and keep quiet. Vlad was determined to leave right now and pretend whatever had happened hadn't happened.

_Leaving so soon?_

Vlad froze on the spot as the words lazily encompassed his mind. It was familiar somehow, just like that magic that had pulled him in. It was tantalizing and something that felt oddly nostalgic. There was a taste of sweet bitterness to it and a sort of darkness tinged its edges.

_Come on. I thought you were more intelligent than that._

"What?" Vlad whispered to empty air. "What are you…" He trailed off in horror as he watched his reflection in the mirror smile slowly and teasingly wave at him.

_Hello._

Vlad was numb as he whispered, "What is this? Is this some sort of spell?"

_Oh dear, you are rather dull, aren't you? _

"Stop it!" the young vampire snapped, his voice taut. "Stop doing that!"

_Doing what?_

"Talking in my head! You shouldn't be in there!" The mere fact that something was communicating to him mentally terrified him. He couldn't sense it within his mind and he had always been able to tell when somebody was intruding.

_Tut, tut…you're so rude. _

"Get out of my head!"

_I pushed you to do it, you know. I wanted you to come here. I'm just that little helpful voice in the back of your consciousness when you need it._

"I could get in serious trouble for this! You aren't helping me! You just drew me in here…for what?"

_I thought it was time we had a little face-to-face. I saw the chance and I couldn't quite pass it up, you see. It's so boring just sitting on the sidelines for eleven years. And I couldn't wait another five, if you know what I mean._

What in the world was his reflection talking about? He had no idea what it was referring to and he didn't want to. "I don't really care. Just leave me alone. What have I done to you?"

_Just by existing, you've done everything to me. And even if I wanted to, I couldn't leave you. _

The reflection slowly widened his smile into a vicious smirk and Vlad felt sick when fangs glistened against the upper lip. It was a horrible sight, seeing himself like a true vampire. "Stop it!" Vlad yelled, backing away. "This isn't real! Why are you doing this?" It was every nightmare he had ever had coming to life.

_We are going to be great, you know. Greater than everybody else. They will all sit at our feet like the filthy little bugs they are. _

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Vlad choked out. "Please…just stop it!" He wanted to run far, far away and never come back but something was keeping him in place, freezing him. He shrieked when his reflection's eyes bled completely red and then darkened into a pitch black.

_You can't run from me. I will always be following you; I'll always be in your head. I always have been. _

Vlad shook his head in denial. "No, you haven't! I've never seen you before! You're just some magic! It's this mirror!" He scanned it with his eyes again, and this time he noticed the words etched into the top.

_Ssen krad stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. Yes, a very accurate description. _

"I don't understand it!" Vlad shouted back. "Just, just leave me alone!"

This time, he could run. His desperation and fear pulled upon his magic and whatever enchantment had trapped him place broke. Vlad was fleeing, never once glancing back at the mirror. He passed through the painting and almost ran headfirst into Dobby's small form in his panic.

"Mister Dracula, sir!" the elf said in relief. "I was tellings you not to go in! Master would be very mad at Dobby if Master found out."

The young vampire blinked at the sudden normalcy of the situation now that he was away from that horrid mirror and his terrible reflection. It had been so quick, so sudden. It was surreal and something he hadn't been planning for at all when he had accepted Draco's invitation to his party. Vlad felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes as the image of his fanged, dark-eyed self and he hastily shoved away the thought before shakily gripping Dobby's shoulder. "Okay." He breathed out. "Okay, Dobby, can you keep quiet about this? Please?"

"Dobby will try his best, sir," the elf replied obediently. "Sir is very kind so Dobby will try his best. But if Master asks, sir, Dobby will have no choice…"

"It's okay. Just try not to have him ask, okay?"

The elf was silent, watching the young vampire's face for a moment before saying, "Okay, sir. Dobby will." It grasped Vlad's hand in a strong grip and for the briefest of moments, the vampire was grateful that there was just another living being holding him down in reality and reminding him that he was real and his reflection was not. "But Dobby thinks it's time to be goings back now. Master Draco would probably be wonderings where Dobby has been takings you, sir."

As they Apparated back to the other Slytherins, the faintest of whispers brushed Vlad's ears and he had to struggle not to turn around in terror.

_You can't run…_

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**Sorry for the relatively short chapter. Especially for so long away. I have actually been getting guilt pangs from neglecting all of my stories for so long. School just hates me. It really does. (Oh my gosh, Catcher in the Rye much?)**

**Anyway, I don't exactly have much to say except that I would have liked to have done the mirror dialogue better. But I tried fixing it multiple times to no avail. So this is the best I can get it for now. **

**I had a lot of fun writing it though despite the slight block I had with it. :)**

**And yes, if you noticed, Vlad does still refer to Dobby as "it" rather than "him." He feels bad for Dobby, don't get me wrong. He feels just as horrified by it as Harry was in the books at first. But the difference is that Vlad had grown up seeing servitude and things like that. He sees it as part of the order of things...probably something he plans on changing or avoiding but it's the way he sees it all the same for now. He can't exactly do much about it considering he's at the manor because of an invitation. Then again, that doesn't mean he won't plan on something in the future when the Malfoys aren't around...**

**Till next time!**


	10. Unease

**I do not own anything that could get me sued. **

**Kudos to Werepuppy Black for mentioning a mistake in my previous chapter. I totally missed it (and it was a pretty large mistake) so thank you! **

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**Chapter 10: Unease**

Vlad didn't have time to catch his breath; Dobby had Apparated them immediately into the room where the others were still conversing. Whatever they had been speaking about ceased the moment the two of them appeared back into existence and, again, Vlad was grateful that his father had flitted with him in tow so many times. He didn't stumble upon landing and that at least gave him a few bonus points.

"I was beginning to wonder what the elf had done with you," Draco drawled, but he didn't pursue it. "Did you like it?"

No, no he hadn't. That crazy mirror the Malfoys owned was possibly the worst thing Vlad had ever encountered. It had been a different kind of dangerous from being surrounded from lethal vampires or being charged by a gigantic troll. No, the mirror had been much worse. Trolls and vampires at least were external. The mirror had brought up some of Vlad's greatest insecurities and inner fears.

Vlad managed a faint smile and replied, "It was very grand. Was that sword really Joan of Arc's?"

"Of course," Pansy sniffed from the side. "Draco's family wouldn't keep anything but the very best."

The huff of irritation coming from Daphne lightened Vlad's mood a little and he had to struggle not to grin at the sound. The witch must have been _very_ frustrated to allow such an obvious sign to be noticed. She actually rolled her eyes the next minute when Pansy threw her a filthy glare and snipped, "I hope you know that _you_ aren't engaged to Draco."

Vlad blinked at the comment. He hadn't known that wizards still continued that tradition. It was still prevalent amongst the vampires of course; blood was literally everything to them. But he had thought the Wizarding world was beyond that. From what he had read, most witches and wizards chose their partners. Apparently, pureblood families still lived in the medieval ages.

Good garlic, his father would absolutely _love_ these people.

Pansy almost growled in her anger. "Well, I certainly don't understand why _your_ sister is betrothed to Draco. She's a –"

"She's a what, Pansy?" Daphne asked sweetly, poisonously.

It was fairly clear that all of the boys in the room were more than uncomfortable. Girls…they were complete mysteries and absolute harpies when they wanted to be.

It was pure fortune that Mrs. Malfoy chose that exact moment to open the doors. If she hadn't, Vlad had a nasty feeling that the two girls in the room would have been at each other's throats. Figuratively and literally.

"I'm afraid I am going to have to break this up," the Malfoy matriarch smiled apologetically, as if she really was sorry for interrupting children's conversation. "The event is coming to a close and your parents are requesting your presence."

It was like a candle had been lit. One moment, his classmates were behaving exactly their age, decently comfortable and bantering amongst themselves. The next, their faces were as inscrutable as a group of eleven year olds could get them to be and a host of polite goodbyes and thank you's were suitably issued before the room was cleared of everybody except for Vlad, Draco, and Mrs. Malfoy.

It was uncomfortable being alone with the two Malfoys, but the young vampire smiled as best he could. "Thank you so much for allowing me to attend your event, ma'am," Vlad said, bowing slightly in the woman's direction. "It was a great experience." He tried not to allow the image of the mirror to creep up within in his mind.

"Oh, please, stay a bit longer," Narcissa Malfoy insisted. "I do hate to keep you longer than needed but my husband and I would love to get to know you better, if that is quite alright with you. You did save our Draco after all."

Vlad flitted his eyes over to his blonde housemate and had to resist the urge to glare ferociously. There was a smug grin on Draco's face that almost screamed, "Did you really think you could get away?"

It was difficult not to sigh; the mirror still weighed heavily upon his mind and all he wanted to do was get home and sleep. But his father hadn't set a curfew and Vlad couldn't say no without sounding ungrateful. He was fairly sure that the Malfoy family felt just as burdened. No prestigious wizarding family would bother with such an obvious newcomer like him if they didn't have to. Vlad was fairly sure that he wouldn't have even been allowed into the party itself if that hadn't been the case.

"I wouldn't mind at all," Vlad managed to reply. "I just don't want to bother you."

"Nonsense!" the matriarch waved away. "Come, it is much more comfortable to speak in the parlor."

Both Draco and Vlad obediently followed the elegant woman out of the room and around a few turns before settling into a much cozier room. The vampire was pleasantly surprised to see that it was even smaller than the one he had been in before and an even brighter fire settled the temperature at sleepily warm. It was the kind of room Vlad would imagine falling asleep in after reading a particularly long and satisfying book.

Draco's father was already waiting for them, muttering some instructions to another of the house elves before finally turning to them as the servant popped away.

"Ah, pleasure again, Mr. Dracula," the man greeted. "Please, settle down."

Vlad felt like that was all he had been doing all night considering the constant change of venue he was experiencing but he did what the patriarch suggested with nothing but a word of thanks. Mrs. Malfoy seated herself beside her husband as Draco pulled himself into one of the spare armchairs.

"Was the party suitable?"

Again with that question. Vlad was tempted to snap that it actually had been anything but suitable he only replied, "It was very remarkable. I have been to few gatherings as nicely planned."

That seemed to make Narcissa beam, but her husband merely seemed satisfied with the answer before continuing. "That is good news. I would hate to have to punish the house elves for making another mistake. You see, they made a mistake the last time we held an event and it takes quite a bit of trouble to make sure the things learn their lesson."

The man said the last comment like he was stating the weather and it made Vlad want to gag. No wonder Draco was such a prick at times. It was actually a miracle his classmate hadn't turned out much worse.

"Now, we have heard of your actions from Draco, but I think we would like to hear what happened during Halloween from your point of view. Our son didn't see exactly how you rescued him, you see, and we would love to hear how you managed to."

In other words, how on earth did you defeat something our trained-since-birth son couldn't? Vlad licked his lips in anxiety at the question; he couldn't exactly just come out and outright tell them that he had hypnotized the troll. The practice was archaic in the wizarding world from what Vlad had read, and even if he said so, he didn't know the incantation for it. Wizards hypnotized with a spell. They certainly didn't utilize eye contact like vampires could.

"It was really a blur, sir," Vlad answered with a careful, shy smile. "I was just desperate. I honestly had no idea what I was doing. Just one moment the troll was charging and I was panicking and then it was gone." Good garlic, that couldn't have gone any worse. It was perhaps the most ambiguous explanation that he could have possibly offered.

"Really, you remember nothing else?" There was skepticism in the Malfoy patriarch's tone, even if it was oh-so-very carefully filtered out with true curiosity.

"It was more accidental magic than anything, I think. Spontaneous. I certainly don't know enough magic to stop a troll."

"Well, we're just glad the two of you managed to escape without too much damage," Narcissa smiled gently. She pressed a hand to her husband's arm. "Why don't you tell us about what you think of England, dear. It must be a very different experience to be in a different country."

That was much easier to answer. "I really like it here, ma'am. The environment is beautiful and Hogwarts is very grand." A slight smile curled Vlad's lips up. "There is a lot more sun here than there is where I live."

"I wasn't aware that Romania had such gloomy weather," Mr. Malfoy commented offhandedly.

Vlad nodded. "There is a decent amount of sun. It's just where I live. The weather likes to…mirror the mood."

Narcissa raised her eyebrows inquiringly. "Where _do_ you live, dear?"

"Transylvania, ma'am." Vlad almost winced at his answer, sure that the people present would recognize the notoriously famous location. But he was only greeted with neutral expressions. Either the Malfoys were ridiculously good at masking their surprise or they really didn't know that Transylvania was literally the vampire capital of the world.

"It sounds familiar," Mr. Malfoy replied slowly. "I'm sure it will come back to me. But do tell us a little more of Hogwarts. Draco has told us what he thinks but your view would be valuable as well."

This was beginning to feel far more like an interrogation than anything else, but Vlad had really no reason not to reply. The questions so far had been innocent enough and they almost would have seemed harmless if they hadn't been coming from _Draco's_ parents.

"I love magic, sir. I've been looking forward to learning it for a long time." Well, if the brief span of a few months since getting the letter qualified as a long time. "My favorite subject would have to be Transfigurations right now."

"That was my favorite subject as a student," Narcissa beamed. "Fascinating isn't it?"

Draco seemed to sense the upcoming gush of Transfiguration theories as he said, "Mother, Father, I think Vlad told me at the beginning of the party that his family wants him home a little early. I wouldn't want to keep him." The subtle glance the blonde threw Vlad's way threatened him to say otherwise.

Vlad was more than happy to follow Draco's lead. "I am very sorry. But my father does wish me to be home."

"No problem at all," Draco's mother said, standing up and encouraging the vampire to do the same. "I am very sorry for keeping you, though."

"Feel free to use your cufflinks again," Draco's father interjected, drawing closer to the Romanian boy. He tapped his cane against the platinum and Vlad felt a brief tingle of magic flutter at the contact. "I have made it a permanent Portkey to our home, but it will only activate if you receive permission first. I hope you understand."

"Of course," Vlad quickly said. "Thank you for the gift. It is very generous of you." At the mention of gifts, the vampire's eyes widened as he hastily plunged his hand into his robes to pull out his own gift. "I nearly forgot! I have brought you a gift as well, sir, for your family. It isn't much, just something I pulled from our family's treasury."

"Your treasury!" Narcissa exclaimed. "Oh, we couldn't accept that. It is your family's."

Vlad shook his head, extending the wrapped gift. "Please take it. You've let me into your home and you've been very kind to me. I want you to have it." He grinned a little. "My family won't miss it anyway. We are not too attached."

Draco's mother fussed, as was expected, but she eventually took the gift from Vlad's hands. When she did so, the vampire reached down to touch the Portkey but the quick and sudden grip on his forearm made him stop.

Vlad stared up into Mr. Malfoy's steely gray eyes and forced himself to ignore the reflex telling him to jerk away from the abrupt contact and to retaliate. As nice as the Malfoys seemed, something told Vlad that there was definitely more to them than met the eye. Nobody truly innocent kept a mirror like the one Vlad had run into hidden from view like stashed loot.

"Before you go, I would love to meet your family. They must be very…interesting people."

Vlad found that he couldn't quite reply. He blinked and nodded soundlessly before Draco's father finally extracted himself. Then, the vampire was gone with a single word to pull him back to Transylvania.

~0~

It was the best Christmas morning Harry Potter had ever had. He hadn't exactly had the best of experiences before, growing up and only being allowed to watch his cousin gorge upon his gifts. He had been absolutely ecstatic with the mere fact that Ron had woken him up this morning with the words, "Get up, Harry! There are _presents_!"

Nobody had woken him up like that before, with such enthusiasm and free of acidic hatred Harry had grown up with.

He had been the amazed receiver of a flute from Hagrid, a 50 pence coin from the Dursleys, some fudge and Chocolate Frogs from Hermione, and a knitted jumper from Ron's mother. All of the presents, including the ones from his relatives, had Harry grinning like a loon and more grateful than ever that he had come to Hogwarts. The invisibility cloak from the anonymous sender had been something of a mystery but it was the one he kept close because it had been his father's.

Right when he thought he had finished unwrapping the last of them, Ron had poked him in the side with one last box in hand. Harry had been puzzled; who else did he know would send him a Christmas present? The box did not have a tag on it signifying the giver and only when he had meticulously taken off the gold and crimson covering did he catch the letter falling out of it. Harry had picked it up, intent upon reading the note first, but Ron's exclamation had caught his attention.

"Blimey!" The redhead had shouted. "You got a Quidditch kit!"

Harry had only blinked in confusion, only seeing a large leather box. "What?"

"That thing must have cost at least ten galleons!" There had been jealously somewhere in Ron's tone. "Bloody expensive. You can tell from the box that it is top grade."

"What's in it?"

"Well, it is a Quidditch kit. It has everything you need in there to maintain your broom and some other equipment you might need to protect yourself out in the game, mate."

Harry had run an admiring hand over the lid, but he had eventually turned back to the letter in his other hand, determined to see who had sent him such a pricey gift.

_Merry Christmas, Harry. _

_I hope you're having a nice break. Figured that you could _

_use this in the future. I don't want to see you fall out there, especially _

_after you swallowed your first Snitch! _

_Best wishes,_

_Vlad_

The fact that the foreign student had even bothered to think of Harry while gift shopping had been astonishing. Harry had felt a little ashamed when he realized that he had completely forgotten about the Slytherin. He truly hadn't believed their association would mean anything after he had so obviously left the Romanian boy alone. It had touched Harry to see that Romanian student was still trying.

A few nights later, after Professor Dumbledore had finally convinced Harry to stop visiting the Mirror of Erised, he could not help but lie in bed and wonder what it could have been like to have Vlad as a friend.

~0~

There was something strange with the new boy, Vladimir. Severus had always been a man aware of his surroundings with a sharp instinct to match and something was telling him that the Romanian boy was more than just the top student in his year. That in itself was impressive enough with the entire Slytherin house already prepped with years of small tutelage and the Gryffindor girl waving her hand about for every question possible.

No, perhaps Severus was being paranoid, but he had been raised in a half-Muggle household and he had grown up finding solace in the books around him. Most of those books had been of Muggle origin before he had magical tomes available to him and one of said novels just happened to be Stoker's _Dracula._

Severus didn't believe in coincidences, no matter how ridiculous. He had learned the hard way that nothing happened without some meaning behind it.

And for somebody who knew that such a book existed, you would have had to be stupid not to make the connection.

Severus had only ever read about vampires. Unlike werewolves or centaurs or even mermen, vampires had not been actively seen in decades. Not since Grindlewald's time and perhaps even before did any wizard actually have consistent contact with the species. Not even Dumbledore, the persuasive politician he could be, could coax the creatures out of their seclusion. Most books about vampires were hogwash nowadays and only some of the most ancient actually held some truth to them. The topic had never interested Severus merely because it had seemed so irrelevant at the time.

But now he had more than enough reason to ponder the question.

Still, the Potions Master felt a little silly going about and actually researching when there didn't seem to be any need to. Vladimir Dracula seemed the complete opposite of what one might consider being one of the undead with the exception of his name. The child wore ridiculously bright colors, for Merlin's sake, and spent more time hanging about in the sun than Severus thought healthy for even a normal boy. It was true Madam Pince, the librarian, often mentioned how much time the child spent studying, but Severus didn't miss the amount of time Vladimir also set aside to stroll outside. It almost seemed to be a conscious effort to do so every single day.

Vladimir smiled far too often to add to the list of oddities and he had a naturally chipper attitude Severus normally would have loved to crush if the boy's potions hadn't been unfailingly immaculate. What sort of vampire was cheerful, sun-happy, and prone to neon tastes in attire?

Yet the boy's name, Dracula, continued to linger in Severus's mind like a pestilence he couldn't quite eradicate.

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**Wow, it didn't take me another month to update :) I actually have a VERY clear of what to write for the next few chapter as well so it might go just as fast...yay :D Or it might not. Depends on how generous my teachers are with their assignments this week. **

**Narcissa isn't that nice, just in case she came across that way. Remember, in the previous chapter she was going on and on about how power was essential and using any way to get it was a-okay. So if she seems all bubbly in this chapter, it's because that's what she thinks Vlad feels most comfortable with (which is actually kind of true) and the more comfortable Vlad is, the more willing to tell information he is. **

**I am planning on eventually including more of Harry in Vlad's school life. It just might be a bit slow considering their beginnings. **

**Till next time! **


	11. Suspicions

**I do not own anything that will get me sued. **

**And thank you so much to my reviewers! They mean a lot. **

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**Chapter 11: Suspicions**

The rest of Vlad's break had proven to be rather uneventful. Christmas had never been a family his family celebrated (for obvious reasons) and after the mirror incident, the young vampire had felt too drained to pursue the holiday like he normally did. Vlad hadn't missed the slightly curious glances he had received from the people inhabiting his household when not a word concerning the celebration passed his lips. In the past, he would have been constantly badgering his father about having some Christmas decorations complete with the tree and cheerful colors.

But nobody had verbally questioned his sudden change in attitude, so Christmas passed with little fanfare. The only thing to indicate that the day had been any different had been Draco's gift, an advanced book on Transfigurations, sent again by eagle owl.

When the day came for Vlad to return to school, his father saw him off alone again with his sister nowhere in sight. They flitted to the station and this time, his father gifted him with another pouch filled to the brim with Wizarding galleons. It made Vlad smile at the gesture; his father had never been one for eloquent displays of affection.

But the moment was brief and the whistle of the Hogwarts train pulled him away from the Count before could say any more parting words. Vlad departed with one last glance at his father's form before the train turned the corner.

Sighing a little, the young vampire pulled his magically lightened trunk behind him as he scoured the cabins for empty space. It wasn't a surprise to see that the majority of the compartments were full and it was only when he entered the last car of the train that he finally ran into some more familiar faces.

"Hello, Vlad," smiled Daphne as she pushed the last of her bags into the overhead storage. "Looking forward to another few months of Hogwarts?"

Vlad smiled back at her friendly question and readily replied, "I am. You?"

The Slytherin girl grimaced. "Mother and Father were not pleased with my progress in Charms."

"I think you're doing well in that class."

"That's sweet," Daphne said in a way that clearly meant she didn't believe him. "But my parents are going to hire extra tutors to teach me over the summer."

Vlad hesitated slightly before setting his resolve and suggesting, "I could help you if you want."

"Oh, that's very nice of you, Vlad, but –"

"Hey, Vlad." Draco's voice interrupted. The blonde seemed to have materialized out of thin air behind the vampire and Vlad jumped in surprise. "Sorry to interrupt, but Daphne was already asked to sit with a couple of the girls. Why don't you come with me?"

Daphne nodded her head in acquiesce. "It's true. Millicent asked me on the station."

Vlad had absolutely no idea who Millicent was except for the fact that she was probably one of the most threatening girls he had ever laid eyes on. She had the stature of a fairly well built girl and that normally indifferent expression on her face unnerved him. Even Draco's face twitched occasionally.

"Come on," Draco insisted, grabbing Vlad's arm and pulling him further down the aisle. When they came to the very last compartment in the entire train, the blonde stepped inside and motioned the vampire to follow.

Vlad obliged, putting away his luggage. When he finished, he turned back to the blonde with a slightly amused grin on his lips. "I never would have thought you'd be so eager to –"

The abrupt shutting of the compartment door cut off his words and his mouth snapped shut at the suddenly less-than-friendly expression on the Malfoy heir's face.

A terse silence hung between them before Draco began speaking with a deadly sort of calm in his tone. "You know, I never knew you took after Finnigan and his tendency for pyrotechnics."

Vlad literally felt the blood drain from his face. He hadn't wanted to talk about the mirror, hadn't wanted to even think about it. "What?"

"Don't act stupid. If you really hated my family so much, you might as well have told it to my face instead of setting my ancestor's painting on fire. And then going into one of our _secret_ vaults."

Bats, he had to fix this and fix this now. He had completely forgotten that the painting could go and still reveal everything after what had happened. Vlad couldn't afford to make an enemy out of Draco again; they had just begun to settle on civil terms. "Look, Draco, I'm really sorry." At the blonde's skeptical expression, Vlad pressed, "No, I really mean it. Please, at least believe me in this. I know…I know what this looks like."

"It bloody looks like you decided to insult my family after we invited you to our home!"

"No, no it's not like that at all!" Vlad pleaded. "I know what I'm about to say sounds ridiculous, but you have to believe me!"

"Believe you after what you did?"

"Please, Draco, I just didn't know what I was doing. I didn't – no, I really mean it! I didn't want to do what I did. But something just pulled me. I couldn't help myself."

There was still an angry glint in the blonde's eyes, but something about that last statement had placated him a little. "You didn't mean to?"

"Yes! It…it was like some sort of spell was pulling me in…"

It was like somebody had flipped a switch. All at once, the terse offensives in Draco's body language dissipated into a large exhale of exasperation. They stood like that – Vlad too afraid to break the atmosphere and Draco just rubbing his eyes with his index finger and thumb – for a long time. Finally, just when Vlad was beginning to think that he would have fight his way out of the compartment, the Malfoy heir groaned and threw himself into of the seats. The movement threw Vlad off balance; not only had it been completely unexpected, but it had also been totally out of character for a normally composed Slytherin.

"Sit down, Dracula. I'm not going to bite."

Ironic, considering what Vlad was, that Draco had decided in that particular choice of words. But the young vampire obliged without another word, afraid that he would do something to spoil the blonde's suddenly charitable mood. By all rights, Draco still should have been furious.

"You saw the mirror, didn't you?" Draco sighed.

The mention of the mirror made the vampire hesitate, but he nodded with his lips pursed.

"Horrible, wasn't it? Father showed me the mirror when I was nine and I don't think I slept for weeks afterward."

Well, what was he supposed to say to that? I'm sorry your father is almost as bad as mine is? And considering Vlad's father was a six hundred year old vampire, that was pretty bad.

The blonde scowled at the look on Vlad's face. "I just wanted to make sure that you hadn't done it on purpose. I know what that mirror is like. It does pull you in and Father explained to me that it does it on purpose because it is always hungry for more fear and more desperation. You could say it's almost like a dementor of sorts."

Vlad only vaguely knew what a dementor was, but it didn't seem the right moment to ask further about it. "I really didn't do it on purpose, Draco."

"I know," the Malfoy heir sighed. "Which is why…why I didn't tell my parents when the painting told me first."

The silence that followed couldn't have portrayed Vlad's astonishment any more clearly.

"Don't get me wrong," Draco growled. "I didn't do it because we're friends or whatever. I was hoping that it would be enough to get me off of this life debt. But apparently it wasn't; I can still feel that slight tug on my magic telling me that I still owe you one." He ran a hand through his hair. "You're lucky that the painting told me first. I just happened to catch him sulking about and demanded he tell me what was making him wander; stupid thing never moves from the treasury if he can help it. I told it I would tell my parents and that I would have you punished for what you did."

Vlad couldn't help but grin a little at the annoyed tone coloring Draco's voice. "Well, I guess if we just don't wander down to your treasury again…"

The blonde punched him in the arm but the smallest of laughs escaped his lips. "You're such a pain. I swear…everything that can possibly go wrong around you goes wrong."

Something about the way Draco had said that, the way he had kept Vlad's little escapade a secret, made the vampire want to smile at the world and never stop smiling. Maybe they still weren't friends – Draco had just said a few moments ago that they weren't – but if the blonde was willing to keep something quiet from his parents, then that must mean something right?

~0~

It was almost as if winter break had never happened. Everything at Hogwarts slipped back into the old routine and soon, Vlad could easily file away the incident with the mirror. It sometimes cropped up in his dreams, but he would always wake up to Nox's shifting paws at just the right time. The voice he had heard in his head that night never whispered again and whatever worries he had hoarded before were filled with textbooks instead.

He was sitting in his usual haunt in the corner of the library one evening when a shuffling of robes and a clatter of books and excited whispers caught his attention. Normally he didn't allow such extraneous noises ruin his concentration, but he knew Harry's voice when he heard it. And if there was one thing he did know, it was that the Gryffindor never ventured in the library unless he had to.

Something urged him to put down his Potions essay and creep towards he direction of the voices. Nox watched him move away and the feline seemed to understand his master's intentions, remaining unerringly silent.

"I never thought to look in here!" Hermione's voice was whispering excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

"You call that _light_ reading?" Ron exclaimed incredulously.

Vlad leaned against the bookcase closest to the conversation and had to stifle a slight chuckle at Ron's comment. Looking slightly over the turn, he saw the trio settled into a rather conspicuous huddle, covering the majority of the tome they were reading from. Most would not have known it for what it was, but Vlad recognized the text immediately; he had been using it for research just a few nights before after all.

"You mean the Philosopher's Stone is here?" Ron's voice declared after a few moments of hushed whispering.

"Shh!" Hermione snapped.

They returned to their quiet conversation again but this time, Vlad was more than just slightly curious about what they were talking about. Now, he was interested enough to surreptitiously snap his fingers and invoke an eavesdropping charm – a relatively simple one he had conveniently found in a small book of pranks he had read just for the fun of it.

"…is why Dumbledore has a three-headed dog in the Third Floor?" came Harry's voice in Vlad's ears.

"It's obviously what the dog is guarding! Remember that trapdoor it was sitting on?" Hermione excitedly replied. "This is it! Nicholas Flamel had it in his vault when you were in Diagon Alley, Harry. You told us that just the other day! This has to be it!"

"The only things we don't know now are who wants it and why."

Whoa, whoa. Hold it. Why were they even wondering that? What made them think that somebody wanted to take the Philosopher's Stone? Perhaps having a gigantic dog guard it did mean something and having the floor banned from students was more than a little suspicious. But Vlad had never really put that much thought into it until now. There hadn't been really any reason to. He had been so caught up in his studies and everything else in between. Most students had been curious at first after the declaration Professor Dumbledore had announced the first night they were here, but even those few had forgotten about it when nothing eventful had happened.

What had made these three, specifically, keep such tight tabs on what was going on in the Third Floor?

And even if something had caught their attention, why were they still pursuing it? Wasn't a gigantic three-headed dog enough to keep them away?

Maybe it was a wizard thing. A vampire...well, that was a relatively unfair comparison. A vampire would just kick the dog out the way if they wanted whatever was being guarded enough – big or not.

"Maybe it's Snape," Ron hissed.

Vlad immediately tensed. What was Professor Snape doing in this conversation? Sure, the man had been inordinately unfair to the three Gryffindors, but that didn't mean the Slytherin Head of House wanted to take a priceless stone!

"You saw him at Halloween; he was limping. Like he had been bitten by a dog. What if he was the one to set the troll inside the castle as a distraction to get to the Stone?"

Vlad frowned and then grimaced. It was true; he had seen the Potions Master limping too but he had been too distraught to give much thought about it. But even if the man had been injured in the leg, that didn't automatically mean he was a thieving culprit. Professor Snape had helped Vlad and Draco that night and there had been sincere concern in the man's posture when he had seen them in the state they had been.

Vlad was dismayed when he heard Harry and Hermione agree that it might be a possibility and stood leaning slightly against the bookcase hiding him from view. They were wrong. Vlad knew they were. He had no particular love for Professor Snape, but the man was not who they thought he was.

He wasn't somebody who would sick a mountain troll in a castle of full of unprotected children.

But then came the real question: who was?

* * *

**Holy cow. I have not updated in forever...and I probably won't again for at least another two weeks :( I'm really sorry but again, this is just the last stretch of school. Then it's SUMMER BREAK. Thank goodness! But I can't celebrate now...finals coming up. **

**Last chapter I forgot to address: **** Dobby and house elves in general DO snap their fingers like vampires to use their magic. But if you go back and read the chapter, I had Dobby never snap his fingers. I did that on purpose. Which is why Vlad didn't go and ask questions about it. **

**And just a heads up I'm sure you guys don't really need, but: assume that everything that happens in the Rowling book happens to the original characters (except for the characters I have interacting with Vlad a lot...which is just mainly Draco so far). The original events ARE happening to Harry and the gang. I just don't feel it necessary to articulate it again when this is a story focused on Vlad. **

**Haha...Draco and Vlad are so silly when it comes to relationships sometimes. But no, for you slash lovers out there...this is most definitely NOT slash. At all. Nor is it het. I just don't write romance at all because I suck at it and because I feel that it takes away from the storyline. At most, I'm going to just mention it passing. A sentence or paragraph at most. **

**Till next time!**


	12. Culprit!

**I do not own anything that will get me sued.**

**And thank you again to all of my reviewers! I really appreciate it!**

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It was with no small amount of glee among the Slytherins that the news of Professor Snape's role as referee for the next Quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor spread like wildfire. Draco understood the hype very well; he too was a great fan of the sport. The Slytherin house had won the Cup for years in a row, but even the most arrogant of them were beginning to see that Gryffindor was beginning to become veritable competition.

Draco was loath to admit it, but a large part of the success amongst the lions was due to Harry Potter's ability. It was like swallowing a lemon whenever the Malfoy heir watched the wizarding world's celebrity fly. He would never admit as much aloud, but the Gryffindor had a natural affinity for broom flying. In fact, many of his House knew as much but it was a lot easier not to voice it. Leaving it to interpretation was the easiest way to deflect any deprecating truths. Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, had been working their team to the ground. But Potter was a Seeker, and sometimes a talented Seeker was all you needed to win a game.

The only people in Slytherin House who weren't sore about the subject were several of the more indifferent girls and – you guessed it – Vlad.

The Romanian student barely twitched at the mention of Quidditch. It wasn't that much a surprise considering what had happened during their first flying class. The other boy had barely been able to stay on his broom and it had quickly proved to be the only class he struggled in. Draco felt petty admitting it, but he had been rather smug to discover that particular fact. So smug that he had quickly forgotten to rub the Remembrall Longbottom had dropped in the Gryffindor's face.

Draco sighed at the thought of Vlad. His classmate had proven to be far more useful than he had originally thought; the Life Debt the Malfoy heir now harbored was more than enough proof of that. It was odd but, for a Slytherin, Vlad was spontaneously laid back. Half of the time, Draco was trying to figure out whether Vlad behaved the way he did because he was trying to get something or simply because he _wanted_ to be that open and considerate.

Ugh, considerate.

It had been a long time – if ever – since Draco had met such a person.

Yet, what had happened during the Christmas party had revealed another side to the Romanian. He wasn't as innocent as he appeared to be – or as ignorant. He clearly knew how to conduct himself within the higher circles when necessary, but he always left this subtle impression that behaving properly was something he actively avoided.

And then there was the mirror.

Oh, Draco hadn't let Vlad get off that easily on the train. It might have seemed like it considering how the other had relaxed afterward, but now the Malfoy heir had every reason to remain cautious and wary.

Draco couldn't deny that there was potential there. Plenty of it. His own father, so rarely impressed, commented for the briefest of milliseconds on it. And what Draco had told Vlad about the mirror hadn't even been the complete truth. Most people aren't called by the mirror at all. Only to those of Dark heritage or Dark themselves are ever enticed by the mirror's lull.

Which just made the picture Draco had of Vlad all the more ambiguous. The foreign student certainly did not seem the type to be in any way related to the Dark, but perhaps he had pulled a Sirius Black and gone against the current.

All Draco could continue to do was wait and watch at this point. It was far too early to make a clear decision and hadn't he always been taught to think carefully of his investments?

~0~

Vlad groaned as the crowd pushed him further into the Quidditch stands. He would have preferred to be anywhere else right now (most notably the library), but the collective insistence from the rest of the Slytherin House that _all _members attend the match to watch their Head of House humiliate the Gryffindors had finally gotten to him. It couldn't hurt to just watch, right? Perhaps he could manage to read a passage or two of the book he had smuggled along. He didn't have to pay attention; being there would suffice.

It was by pure coincidence that he ended up with Draco to his right; his left side pressed to the wooden side of the Slytherin stands separating them from the Gryffindor onlookers. It was hardly the most comfortable position but at least he was isolated enough to pull out his text. Normally, he would have been trying his hardest to blend in the crowd and pretend some interest in the sport. But something about the entire game rubbed him the wrong way. And it wasn't just the fact that brooms unsettled him (was that really a secure way to fly?). The position of Seeker, especially, bothered him because it was such an important role – eclipsing the rest. But who was he to question the rules of Quidditch when so many avid fans crowded the stands every time a match was scheduled?

Vlad read through the entire entrance and announcing of the teams, glancing up just once to watch Professor Snape stride on to the field. Things were beginning to look up when he found that he could read perfectly despite the loud clamor around him, but just as he was settling into a rhythm, something managed to smack him upside the head.

The young vampire yelped slightly at the surprise contact and instinctively looked towards the offender. Vlad almost wanted to groan when he saw that it was none other than Ron Weasley. The boy, in his excitement, had abruptly stood up, raising his arms as in an effort to cheer. And since he was sitting right against the wood separating the two Houses, just opposite of where Vlad was seated, he had accidentally whacked the Slytherin in the process.

Vlad's annoyance quickly dissipated when he realized that it had been pure mishap, but Draco was less willing to do so. When Ron had hit Vlad, the young vampire had jerked away and stumbled into the Malfoy heir's side, catching the blonde's attention.

"Oh, wow, sorry mate," Ron quickly said, slightly distracted by the beginning match.

"Sorry? Is that all you can say?" Draco sneered. "Keep your hands to yourself, Weasley, and maybe the rest of us won't have to deal with your stupidity."

Oh, garlic. Just leave it up to the Malfoy heir to escalate an honest mistake into a war.

Immediately, the redhead had his attention focused upon Draco. "Shut up, Malfoy. Maybe if you snakes kept to yourselves, I wouldn't have to watch myself."

"You really are a disgusting blood traitor. Look at you: a brute just like the rest of your filthy _friends_." The last word had been spit out, like some rancid insult.

Vlad's eyes widened when, instead of Ron replying, Neville interrupted, "Y-you leave him alone." The tone was shaky at best and the way the poor guy was hunched in himself showed he was anything but confident in what he was doing. Still, it was probably the first time Vlad saw why Neville had been sorted into Gryffindor.

Draco's eyes narrowed in disdain. "Stay out of this, Longbottom. You'll just hurt yourself."

So much for reading during the game. "Look," Vlad began. "It was just a mistake –"

"Hey, Malfoy!" crowed one of the other Gryffindors (Dean Thomas?) a little further down. "How much do you want to bet we'll still win the match even with Snape refereeing?"

Vlad could almost hear Draco's teeth grinding at the jab, a little shocked himself by the lack of respect the Gryffindors had for the Potions Master. They didn't even use "professor" before the man's name and that was, in many ways, a direct insult to somebody who had worked hard to gain enough knowledge to teach others. Even if the Potions Master was a jerk at times, that didn't warrant such clear contempt.

At this point, several more Slytherins had taken notice of the squabble and it seemed like everybody was at near blows with only a slab of wood in the way. Then, almost miraculously, Lee Jordan's voice echoed around the stadium, "Potter has caught the snitch!"

It had barely been five minutes into the game.

Vlad couldn't help but grin a little. The moment the announcement had been made, the two arguing parties had immediately stilled in slight surprise and shock. Who had ever heard of a Quidditch game lasting only a few minutes? Days – weeks even – were sometimes common occurrences among the higher ranked players, but Harry had managed to capture the snitch in an almost unheard of time span with Professor Snape watching nonetheless. Harry had probably just set a school record and saved the young vampire a fight to clear up.

"Ha! Did you see that, Malfoy?" Ron gleefully jeered.

None of them had actually _seen_ what had happened, but Draco was too incensed to point that out. Instead, he turned upon the redhead and opened his mouth to snarl –

Vlad's hand gripping the blonde's forearm was the only thing that kept Draco from continuing whatever he had been planning to do. The Malfoy heir had thrown a filthy glare at the young vampire at first, but at Vlad's meaningful glance up towards the teacher's booth, Draco scowled and relented.

The Slytherin's backing down seemed to invigorate Ron even more. "What, got nothing to say?"

Vlad had never disliked Ron. Sure, the guy was brash and blunt, but he was never purposefully vindictive. That honesty and sincerity made the young vampire tolerate the Gryffindor's constant taunting towards his fellow Housemates much more easily than he might have otherwise. Vlad had never been one to judge based on outside impressions. If he had, he probably would have demanded a change out of Slytherin the first day in school simply because his House had hardly been the greatest of people. He did not know the redhead very well and therefore he could not critique Ron like Draco and his companions tended to do.

But Vlad was not feeling particularly charitable after his peculiar holidays and for the first time during his time at Hogwarts, his self-control snapped.

"We have plenty to say," Vlad snarled irritably. "We're just smart enough _not_ to. Besides, Harry just won the game. Shouldn't you be cheering for him rather than arguing with us? Or is your stupid pride worth more than your _friend_?" There, that should keep the redhead quiet for a decent amount of time.

And indeed, Ron had merely gaped in response just as he had done the first time on their first train trip heading into Hogwarts. The hurt and wary look in the redhead's eyes made Vlad's conscience stir uneasily and he felt horrible for letting himself go like that. But another part of him burned with a sort of satisfaction he didn't like acknowledging.

Vlad was spared the sight of an insulted Ron Weasley as the crowd began to sweep them away and out of the stands. The results had been announced already – a clear Gryffindor victory – and there was nothing left to do but return to school.

Vlad allowed himself to be separated from Draco as the mass of bodies pushed and shoved for the quickest way out. He didn't exactly want to see what Draco's reaction would be like to his defense, even if it would be positive. He had to remind himself that hurting people like that, even if it wasn't physical, was not something he wanted to make a habit. His greatest wish was to be normal – anything but a vampire. And the only way to do that was to avoid anything remotely associated with them.

He was planning on immediately heading up to the library and sitting alone with his books to accompany him, but as his feet led him up to the castle, the corner of his peripheral vision caught sight of something hovering in the sky.

At first he absently dismissed it as another one of the common birds making its way over the school property. It was an everyday occurrence, nothing out of the ordinary. He was one of the few lingering towards the back of the mass heading back to Hogwarts, but those ahead of him didn't see it at all. If they didn't think it worth noticing, why should he?

But then he realized that the so-called bird was heading _towards_ the Forbidden Forest. And Vlad had long ago realized that normal aviators never approached the magical woods. There must have been something unsettling about the entire place to keep the birds away, which meant that whatever Vlad had briefly seen was anything but regular. Vlad stopped in his tracks, allowing the last of the crowd to get ahead before peering closer at the flying projectile.

Imagine his surprise – or rather, lack of it – when he saw that it was Harry on his broom.

Good garlic, was the wizarding world's savior really the right person to go looking for trouble around every corner? The Gryffindor had run into the troll after Vlad had, had nearly choked on the snitch during his first Quidditch game, had run into a three-headed dog, and had been investigating what could be lurking in the third floor corridor.

And that was only counting the things Vlad had heard second-hand.

Vlad decided to curse his curiosity when he began to follow Harry. This was probably not a smart thing to do considering flying by broom was a much faster form of travel and flying over the Forbidden Forest was much safer than running into it on ground, but something was pushing him to pursue. If anything, maybe he could help Harry out with whatever he was investigating this time.

The Gryffindor was too far for Vlad to place a Tracking Charm so he followed to the very best of his ability, constantly looking up for a point of reference. It went well for a few minutes where the contrast between the sky and Harry's darker form was easy to spot. But once the canopy of the forest trees barred Vlad's view, things became considerably more complicated.

Scowling, Vlad tucked his book under one arm before reaching down to pick up a small twig. He really should stop now and go back when he still had the chance. It was the wise thing to do. Yet his thoughts remained only that: thoughts. His body just continued moving, his lips forming the words, "Point me." The twig spun in his palm like a compass before wobbling to an abrupt stop pointing southwest. It took a few moments of trekking through sparse brush and stumbling on a few large roots before Vlad heard the first signs of conversation.

He carefully tread across the forest floor until he was pressed up against a tree before peering around the trunk and catching sight of a shadowy clearing. There, Snape stood, towering over the quivering form of Professor Quirrell.

Even with the Potions Master's back to him, Vlad was fairly sure a thunderous expression was on the man's face. Not only had the professor just watched one of his most loathed students succeed (quite literally) under his nose, but now he was also facing the exact type of person prone to induce the man's irritation.

"…d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus…"

"Oh, I though we'd keep this private," said the Potions Master, his voice icy. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Philosopher's Stone, after all."

Quirrell mumbled under his breath, "What are you talking about –"

"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?" Professor Snape interrupted harshly.

"B-b-but Severus, I –"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," said Snape, taking a step toward him. "And you know perfectly well what I mean."

An owl hooted loudly and the slight rustling in a nearby birch tree abruptly pulled Vlad's attention away from the confrontation. His eyes immediately snapped towards the direction of the sound and his jaw almost dropped open when he saw Harry half crouched on his broom amongst the leaves of the tree almost directly above the two professors. The Gryffindor seemed flustered; he clearly had almost fallen out of his position from the owl's sudden call. But he quickly righted himself and was avidly listening to the exchange again, completely oblivious to Vlad's incredulous stare.

Well, at least Vlad had found what he had come for. But he could do very little in a situation like this when two far more experienced wizards would most likely punish the both of them should they be discovered. Vlad could only hope that Harry didn't do anything more stupid.

The young vampire's attention was drawn back to the two grown men as Professor Snape gave one last warning look at Quirrell. Then the Potions Master was striding out the clearing and back to the castle, pulling the hood of his black cloak over his head.

Glancing up, Vlad saw to his relief that Harry was flying away as well, probably believing that anything worth seeing was now at its end. The young vampire too decided that now was a good time to follow suit and leave undetected.

But he didn't have the chance as a sudden wave of Darkness choked him and sent him crumpling to his knees. A hand involuntarily reached out to grasp the wood he had been leaning on and Vlad prayed that his unexpected movement hadn't caused too noticeable of a noise.

It seemed that Quirrell hadn't heard a thing because a second later, Vlad could hear the man muttering to himself. He could barely make out the words, "I'm sorry, Master. I will be more careful –" A whimper of pain clogged off the rest of the sentence. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, Quirrell stopped quivering and his voice came out strong and unwavering. "You're right, Master. I will do as you command."

Vlad had to wait for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to be completely out of the clearing before he could move again. The Darkness had been similar – horribly similar – to the magic he had tasted during Christmas and with terrifying clarity he realized that the three Gryffindors had been devastatingly wrong.

Professor Snape wasn't the culprit. Quirrell was.

* * *

**The dialogue between Snape and Quirrell was mostly from the first Harry Potter novel. Please don't sue me for this. Just a heads up :)**

**And yup, that escalated rather quickly. I was kind of debating whether to put Vlad's discover in this chapter or not but I decided that I should. I had always planned for him to figure it out far earlier (I hinted at it when I mentioned Vlad's unease around Quirrell). In the back of his mind, Vlad had always been suspicious anyways. He IS a Dark Creature technically, so he would be able to sense how "odd" Quirrell is from the start. **

**It's a REALLY tiny, eensy-weensy detail, but in the novel, Harry couldn't hear what Quirrell mumbled after Snape made the whole "students shouldn't know about the Stone" comment. I made Vlad hear it on purpose...because he has better hearing. In the show, it kind of portrayed that born vampires don't just magically get all of their powers and whatnot after their sixteenth birthday. They kind of have their powers beforehand, especially if they're strong. So here was just a minuscule hint of that. **

**And um, yeah. I think that's about it for now. Till next time!**


	13. Hiding Secrets

**I do not own anything that could get me sued.**

**Thank you to my reviewers! I always appreciate the time you put into writing a comment!**

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Exams of the year weren't for another ten weeks, and for the normal student that was plenty of time to do little else but procrastinate. But for the likes of Hermione Granger – a true wayward Ravenclaw-turned-Gryffindor in Vlad's opinion – ten weeks meant barely enough time to squeeze in all of the studying needed. He never spoke to her and only saw her occasionally during his long hours in the library but even he could feel her nervous vibes through the walls of the castle.

And it wasn't only Vlad that was sensing her tension; it seemed like the rest of his House had caught Hermione's fervor. It surprised him at first because although Slytherins were far from slackers, they were hardly the studious material either. It wasn't until he questioned Draco about it that he learned Slytherins were good at anything that would place them at a higher advantage and standing. High final marks were important and something that could influence the future and hence it they were something worth working towards. It was far from the Ravenclaws' curious motivations that pushed them; it was their ambition and drive that made Slytherins just as good, if not better learners when needed.

That, Vlad could understand and normally his House's sudden turns towards constant studying like himself would have been a positive change. But the supercharged tension in the air only served as fire to Vlad's stress flame.

It was difficult dragging around the knowledge that a potential criminal was walking amongst them and as their professor, no less. He would have screamed the information at the top of his lungs to the nearest listener if he could. But all he would get would be disbelieving stares from both the staff and the students. Who would take his word over a grown wizard's? And the stuttering Defense teacher hardly seemed the type to concoct diabolical plans of thievery.

So Vlad carried what he knew like a weight tied to his shoulders and he found himself becoming more than a touch paranoid.

The Gryffindor trio's antics had hardly helped his condition. Every time he passed the Third Floor, Vlad noticed them disappearing into a certain forbidden corridor, no doubt making sure that the three-headed dog was still doing its job. Whenever one of them passed by Quirrell, they would smile encouragingly and Ron had begun to tell people off for laughing at the man's stutter. Harry must have told his friends what he had heard in the Forbidden Forest and all three of them had clearly taken it the wrong way; they still believed that Professor Snape was the perpetrator and doing everything they could to boost Quirrell's chances.

Vlad wanted nothing more than to run screaming up to them that they had the wrong guy, but that would only make them suspicious. Ron already disliked Slytherins on principle and Hermione had always carried some lingering grudge that her only obstacle to being top of their year was a Romanian transfer. The other two heavily influenced Harry and he – out of all of them – disliked Professor Snape the most.

So the young vampire was in a bind that he couldn't quite get out of.

"Bats!" Vlad snapped aloud as his quill broke for the third time that day. He had never had problems with quills before; his father had always favored the old way of doing things. But the stress had been getting to the young vampire lately and it seemed like he had been placing too much pressure on his writing utensil. The librarian seemed to appear out of thin air upon his exclamation and with a sharp flick of her finger, indicated that it was time for him to leave the premises for the day.

Normally, Madame Pince was lenient towards him because he was always a constant presence in her library. But it was testing season and she was just as snappy as the rest of them during a time when countless careless students vandalized her precious books.

Vlad didn't even bother arguing. He only waved his hand in one irritated motion to organize his things in his bag before departing. Several of the students around him stared curiously at his display of wandless magic; it was apparently still a novelty to see it since it was such a revered skill to have. Many of the students and even some of his teachers continued stared at Vlad when he performed magic, but he had long ago learned to ignore those looks.

He exited the library in a rather large huff and crossed his arms irritably as his resident stalker abruptly blocked his path.

"What do you want now?" Vlad growled. "I'm really not in the mood."

"I can tell," the Bloody Baron mused. "But I just wanted to check up on Hogwarts' little bloodsucker."

Vlad had discovered earlier in the year that the Baron only so blatantly mentioned his secret when there were no witnesses around; it was the only reason why he let the jab slide. "Well, here I am and you've checked up on me. Now can you leave me alone?"

"I have news, actually. Interesting news if you're willing to listen."

The young vampire was tempted to tell the ghost he could keep the news for all he cared. But the mere fact that the Baron had bothered to go out of his way to tell Vlad such a thing made him pause. Common sense kicked in and the Slytherin had to grit his teeth before asking, "Alright. What is it?"

The pleased smirk on the Bloody Baron's face made Vlad want to burn something. "I'm sure you know young Draco. That Malfoy child." The ghost ran a hand over one of his slivery wounds. "I believe he has stumbled upon the sudden pastime of trailing those three Gryffindors you seem so interested in lately."

That was hardly news. Even with Vlad's tempering presence, the blonde still seemed to insist upon finding some way of getting the three in trouble. Draco had begun to find fault in everything any of the three did and that too had added further stress upon Vlad's already large burden. It hardly endeared him any more to the young aristocrat.

"So what?"

"So he decided to follow them a few minutes ago…just as they were heading down to visit the groundskeeper."

Vlad was about to snap another retort about the insignificance of the ghost's observation. But then it hit him like a ton of bricks and he was making a mad dash for Hagrid's hut. Those three would no doubt question the half-giant about his three-headed dog and if Draco were to hear about the Philosopher's Stone…

Good garlic, Vlad would have a hell of a time trying to fix that.

He caught Draco just as he was halfway across the field leading to Hagrid's home. Vlad was so relieved to have stopped any incident from happening that he barreled into the blonde with a broad grin on his face.

Needless to say, it was an odd sight for the Malfoy heir to see his typically reticent Housemate so chipper.

"What's got you smiling so much?"

"I think I might have finished studying for the exams," Vlad replied, the lie rolling smoothly off his tongue. He was so reassured with his recent success that he couldn't quite muster up the guilt that normally accompanied such an act.

"And you ran all the way down here to tell me this?"

"I was just passing by and I wanted to share the news. Why don't you come with me back to the Common Room?"

The odd warmth and companionship that Vlad was exuding was clearly unsettling the blonde Slytherin but that wasn't enough to stop him from glancing towards Hagrid's hut and replying, "Why don't you go ahead? I'll catch up with you later."

In a flash, Vlad's good mood vanished. "What? Are you sure?" When the rejection was clear upon the Malfoy heir's face, the young vampire quickly cut in, "Why don't I just follow you?"

"But," Draco spluttered, thrown off by the rapid questions. "Why would you want to follow me?"

"Is there anything wrong with it?"

"No – yes – I mean perhaps…"

Draco wasn't giving up, obviously. So Vlad could only see one more route ahead of him. "What were you doing anyway?"

The question seemed to focus Draco, pull him to attention. His stormy gray eyes stared into Vlad's own blue ones for a long moment before he sighed and replied, "I was following Potter and his lackeys." Before Vlad could comment, the blonde continued, "And I know you are going to say something ridiculously Hufflepuff, but I'm not going to stop this time. They're up to something; I just know it!"

They _were_ up to something and that was exactly what Vlad didn't want Draco to find out. "Draco, you shouldn't be doing this. It's almost supper, why don't we –"

"Look, Vlad. I'm not going to pass this up. They read something this morning from that great oaf of a man and it had them excited. The only thing that ever excites those Gryffindors is something ridiculous – and dangerous."

Then the blonde was swiftly making his way towards the hut again and Vlad was hastily following, desperately grasping Draco's sleeve in an effort to slow him down. But they had already been too close and the young vampire's move sent the both of them careening into the window of the hut.

The two of them stared wide-eyed inside as four pairs of eyes stared back at them. It was a moment of stillness and shock because while Vlad had managed to stop any eavesdropping from happening, he had probably just gotten Hogwarts' groundskeeper fired. There was no way Draco wouldn't go writing to his father about the freshly born dragon – the egg shards were still surrounding it! – huddled upon Hagrid's tabletop.

In the next moment, Vlad was running away and dragging Draco with him. He distantly heard the half-giant bellow, "Stop them!" But by the time the trio had managed to run out the door, the two Slytherins were already far too close to the castle.

The three would no doubt think Vlad had been a part of it. The young vampire didn't want to think about what they were saying now about him and Draco. He only pulled the blonde along behind him, just as he had once done with a troll thundering after them. Only when they were back in the Slytherin dorms and their room's door securely closed with nobody in sight did they stop.

"Merlin, did you know the oaf had a dragon? Is that why you were trying to stop me?" Draco asked incredulously.

"I didn't –" Vlad began. But then he stopped and realized that it was pointless to argue that he wasn't trying to stop the blonde. Draco wasn't stupid. He could probably easily see what Vlad had been trying to do now. The only good thing about the situation was that Draco probably thought that Vlad had been trying to hide the creature rather than the knowledge about the Philosopher's Stone. "I didn't know Hagrid had a dragon."

"Then why were you holding me back?"

There were so many reasons Vlad could have stood there all day listing them. "I just don't like it when you follow those three. It's invading their privacy."

"Well look at what we found because of it!" A gleeful glint was now in Draco's eyes and it hurt the young vampire to see it. "Now we have some way of getting that lout fired and maybe Potter's gang expelled!"

"No!" Vlad burst out. He couldn't have those three expelled! "Can't you see what you're doing? Can't you see that what you're doing is – is –"

"Is what?"

"Is…weird! It's creepy, Draco! Nobody follows people like you do! It's strange and it makes you seem obsessed with them!" Vlad almost wanted to laugh at his own hypocrisy.

"But…" the Malfoy heir faltered. The comments about what he had appeared to be made his pause. If there was anything that could stop a Slytherin, it was pointing out some clear detriment in their actions. Being seen as weird and obsessive was hardly what Draco wanted to seem like and if he went and revealed what he had found, he would have to admit that he had been following the three. "Surely it's worth it. It would get rid of that tiresome half-breed they call a groundskeeper and not seeing Weasley's or that Mudblood's face everyday would be a big improvement."

"You can't just expel Harry Potter, though! People will notice and a lot of them would probably back him."

"Well he should be expelled too," Draco hissed back with a vehemence Vlad hadn't expected. "He's the reason the Dark Lord is gone."

Vlad froze at that before he felt a chill run through his body. Draco's sudden stricken expression made their argument come to a screeching halt. The young vampire had suspected that the blonde's loyalties had not always leaned towards the Light, but he had hoped that it wouldn't be any worse than that. He had hoped that the Malfoys weren't the rumored followers of the deceased Dark wizard named Voldemort. But how could Vlad continue to hope such things when the Malfoy heir had practically just said what Vlad hadn't been wanting hear?

"Look," Vlad finally said, softer, and before Draco could say anything more. "I just think you should leave it alone, okay?" It was a placating comment, a comment telling the blonde that Vlad wouldn't say anything else about the matter so long as it wouldn't come up again.

Vlad merely wanted to have somebody he could talk to that wasn't Dark. And it was just his luck that the one person who spoke to him the most within Hogwarts was Draco Malfoy. So the young vampire would give his tentative acquaintance a chance.

He should have known better. Vlad found Draco's bed empty just a few nights later.

And he was willing to bet that there were three other empty beds in Gryffindor tower as well.

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**Oh, Draco. **

**Anyway, I guess I've been feeling deprived of writing after my extended absence. Another chapter! :) And yes, it's the chapter with Norbert (well, really, it's Norberta)!**

**Their first year should be finished in about ten chapters - give or take a few. Then summer comes into play!**

**Till next time!**


	14. Did I Forget to Tell You?

**I do not own anything that could get me sued.**

**Thank you so much to my reviewers! Your comments always help me!**

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**Chapter 14: Did I Forget to Tell You?**

"They're trying to hand off the dragon egg in the Astronomy Tower."

Vlad groaned softly as he slapped a hand to his forehead. "Bats. Who are they handing it off to?"

"I'm not quite sure," mused the Baron. "But it appears to be a dragon tamer – probably related to the Weasley boy." A wry grin touched the ghost's mouth. "The man has hair just as bright."

Vlad had no idea that Ron had an elder brother who was a dragon tamer. In fact, he had thought that the twins were his only siblings. But Draco had always ranted about how the Weasley's were constantly crowded with children so he should have known better.

"It would be best not to go," the Bloody Baron advised. "Just let the Malfoy child make his mistake. It is hardly going to affect you in the long run should you help him."

Vlad's mouth twitched upwards in a self-condemning manner. "Trust me: I know. But I suppose I'm just incurable."

The ghost shrugged. "Your funeral, I suppose. Don't forget though; you now owe me a favor for this information."

"As promised," nodded the young vampire. "So long as it's within reason." He watched in silence as a satisfied grin settled upon the Baron's face and stayed in place until the silvery apparition had drifted away through a nearby wall.

Upon discovering Draco's bed empty, Vlad had just reacted and pulled himself out of the dormitories and out of the Common Room to stand within the dark corridors. There, he had summoned the Bloody Baron with a whisper into the air that he hadn't been completely sure would work. But the ghost always had a tab on him for some reason and soon enough, the school's most feared spirit had appeared. When Vlad had asked him to search for Draco, the Baron had agreed for a price of a favor. But the young vampire had been expecting it; Slytherin's House ghost was named so for a reason.

Now standing in the hallways out of curfew in the dead of the night, Vlad felt like a complete idiot for acting so brashly. But he had gotten this far; he couldn't go back now. So he plastered himself as closely to the stone walls as possible and began to quietly make his way up to the Astronomy Tower.

It was only by pure luck, in his opinion, that he didn't run into Mr. Filch the entire way. Mrs. Norris had spotted him once but she merely glanced at him before leisurely walking off – something Vlad was still sure had something to do with Nox's influence.

Just as he was a little ways up the tower's steps, the rustle of movement lower downwards made him jolt in place and jump into one of the nearby small alcoves scattered throughout the stairway. Vlad forced his breathing to calm itself and held his limbs as still as they could be.

By the sun's burning rays, were the crazy things he got himself into worth it?

A few moments passed by and, much to Vlad's confusion, nothing and nobody appeared. Just as he had let his guard down and was about to step back into the open, hushed voices just in front of him pushed him back into hiding.

"Shh! Goodness, Ron, can you get any louder?"

"I can't help it! It's too cramped in here."

"Maybe this is a good place to leave the cloak."

"Are you sure, Harry?"

"There's nobody here."

Vlad stared in confusion as the disembodied voices seemed to spontaneously hover just in front of his alcove and his eyes only widened a moment later as the three Gryffindors he had tried to protect a few days earlier appeared out of thin air. At first, he thought they had performed Apparition. But then his gaze focused upon the cloak in Harry's hands and he realized that it must be a magical object hiding the three from view.

Who in the name of garlic thought it would be a good idea to give Harry Potter an Invisibility Cloak?

Hermione's face was scrunched in clear discomfort now that she was no longer underneath the safety of the cloak. "Maybe we should put it back on."

"Relax," Ron grinned easily as if he wasn't breaking a dozen school regulations. "Malfoy's got Filch occupied. Got himself caught trying to tell McGonagall, remember?" The redhead snorted. "Idiot."

Draco, Vlad decided, was a right dunce. Did he really think that informing the Gryffindor Head of House that three of her prized students were trying to smuggle a dragon in the dead of the night would be a smart choice? Draco had probably sounded like a mere child trying to get some petty rivals in trouble with an unlikely story. There was nothing he could do for the blonde now that Professor McGonagall had caught the Malfoy heir. The young vampire had to grit his teeth in annoyance and waited for the three to get far enough away before finally stepping out.

He was about to head back to his dormitories when his feet caught themselves on something. Vlad glanced down and was surprised to see the Invisibility Cloak there, forgotten in the three's haste. He reached down to pick the cloth up and examined it, feeling the soft material. It was a foolish mistake on their part to forget the one thing that ensured their safe return. A great part of Vlad told him that he should leave it for them to find. But at a sudden meow at the base of the staircase, the young vampire quickly pulled the cloak over his head and pressed himself as closely to the wall as possible.

Mrs. Norris came around the bend a moment later. Her eyes were locked on to Vlad's position, but she did nothing other than tilting her head further down the steps where a lamp's light flickered. Vlad kept his eyes locked upon the feline as he carefully walked down the staircase and at the exit, he saw Mr. Filch patrolling the premises.

"Those brats they can get away," sneered the aging Squib. "Well, I'll get them. I know they're out here somewhere…"

It seemed like the corridor patroller wasn't going to leave his post any time soon. Vlad uneasily watched the man pace back and forth, a part of him hoping that Filch would just leave. But it seemed like luck wasn't with him that night and he realized with growing dread that the only way to get back to the Slytherin dormitories undetected would be with Harry's cloak. Vlad hadn't yet learned how to correctly cast the Disillusionment Charm yet and a part of him burned at that thought. Now he had to choose: leave the cloak for the three or use it himself?

Vlad sighed in defeat and did the only thing he could do.

~0~

Vlad didn't miss the incredulous glance Draco sent him during breakfast a few weeks later, a few days before exams. The blonde was actively staring at the slip of paper – identical to his own – in the Romanian's hand.

"That's a detention slip," Blaise noted from his seat. "The Prefects won't be pleased."

Vlad sighed. No, they wouldn't be pleased. But what could he do? The only good thing the past few weeks had brought was an increased ease amongst the Slytherins when he was around. It seemed like interacting him was no longer that much of an issue, even if they did still ignore him when he seated himself in the center of the classrooms. They had short exchanges, but exchanges nonetheless.

Later that night, as Vlad dragged himself down to Hagrid's hut where the detention slip had told him to report to, he spotted Draco already waiting.

"I didn't believe it," the blonde said disbelievingly. "I really didn't believe it this morning. But you went and bloody followed me that night didn't you?"

The young vampire let out an exasperated breath. "Do I really need to answer that? Of course I did. And for the record, I _did_ tell you not to continue following those three. It only got you here."

It was the first time Draco didn't bother to retort. He only watched Vlad with a strange look in his eyes, something between a mix of confusion and astonishment. "You followed me because you knew I would get in trouble?"

"I _tried_ to keep you out of trouble, Draco," Vlad sighed, rubbing his eyes.

Whatever the blonde was going to say in reply was cut off as muffled footsteps behind them indicated the arrival of the Gryffindors. That in itself was another thing to set off Vlad's bad mood. Despite having chosen to leave the cloak behind for the three to find, they _still_ had gone and gotten themselves caught. In other words, everything Vlad had done that night had been for nothing.

Hagrid came out of his home a few minutes later carrying a large crossbow and a quiver of arrows, his gigantic hound following closely behind.

"Well, hello ther," the gigantic man said with less than his usual enthusiasm. He didn't seem particularly pleased to see either Slytherin. "Fer your detention t'nite, we're goin ter be going inter the Forbidden Forest."

Draco seemed to freeze at the news. "The forest?" he repeated, and he didn't sound as cool as usual. "We can't go in there at night – there's all sorts of things in there. I've heard werewolves are in there." The blonde screwed his face up in something Vlad could only define as panic. "I'm not going into that forest."

Ron just made a choking sound in his throat.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay in Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it."

"But this is servant stuff! It's not for students to do –"

"Leave it," Vlad cut in, giving Draco a long look. "The sooner we get started the sooner we get this over with."

That seemed to be enough to shut the blonde up and the half-giant gave the Malfoy heir one last glare before speaking again. "Right then. Now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me for a moment."

He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp high, he pointed to a narrow earth track in the soil that disappeared into the thick, black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they gazed where the man pointed.

"Look there," said Hagrid, "see that that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second one this week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" Draco asked, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"Just keep ter the path. And so long as yer with me or Fang, yeh'll be fine." The half-giant shifted the weapons in his arms. "Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. The unicorn must'er been staggerin' the whole night."

"I want Fang," said Malfoy quickly, glancing at the dog's long teeth.

"All righ'," replied Hagrid. "But I warn yeh, he's a right coward. So me, Hermione, an' Ron'll go one way an' Draco, Vlad, Harry, an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if any of us find the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? An' if any of yer get in trouble, send up red sparks. So be careful and let's go."

The forest was black and far more foreboding than it had been during the daytime. Vlad uneasily eyed the branches dividing the stars above and the complete silence set him on edge. A little ways into it, they reached a fork in the earth path and they split – Hagrid's group taking the right while Vlad's took the left. They continued to walk in silence, their eyes on the ground. Every once in a while, their eyes would be drawn to a silvery spot amongst the leaves lining the path but their party did little else.

Vlad couldn't help but wonder if this really was a detention for students. Was it really safe to have them in the Forbidden Forest alone with nothing but a dog between them and the unknown dangers ahead of them?

"Do you think it was the werewolves that got the unicorn?" Harry asked in a clear effort to break the silence.

"I don't think so," Vlad replied, a little relieved that the Gryffindor was still willing to talk to him. "Unicorns are powerful magical creatures. They're supposedly almost impossible to see, let alone catch. At least as long as you're not a girl and completely innocent of all sin possible in the world."

Draco snorted, a slight note of unease in his voice. "Merlin, you read too much."

"It doesn't hurt to read," the young vampire replied glibly.

Their conversation dwindled afterward, all of them lost in their own thoughts. They walked for an almost indeterminate amount of time while trailing the blood. It was Fang's abrupt pause and whimper that pulled them out of their deliberations.

"What's he stopping for?" Draco asked with his voice wavering a little.

"I'm not so sure," Harry replied. "Maybe…" His train of thought disappeared as he winced in pain, his hand automatically flying to the infamous scar upon his forehead.

"That can't be a good sign," Vlad muttered. "We should probably get back now and tell Hagrid."

"I completely –" Draco froze in the middle of his sentence and completely clammed up. All of the color drained from face just as it had when he had been facing the troll and his gray eyes focused upon something beyond Vlad's shoulder.

It was almost comically like a horror movie. Vlad had never been allowed to see one, of course, but he was fairly sure this was almost an exact replica of one. He would have laughed had his life not been in danger.

Slowly, Vlad turned around and for the longest moment, he could barely register what he was seeing. There, a unicorn lay upon the ground. Its beauty would have been stunning and its ethereal majesty would have left all of them gaping, but seeing it collapsed upon the floor and bleeding profusely from its neck and legs left a horrified aftertaste in Vlad's mouth.

And that wasn't even the main thing that caught his attention. Because at the same time, a figure cloaked entirely in black hovered like a wraith above the forest floor, creeping toward the fallen magical creature. The slightest hint of silvery blood coated its lips and hooked fingers.

Fang let out a long howl before bolting away. Draco was the first to react, automatically dashing after the hound. Vlad looked back desperately as the two disappeared into the darkness and turned a panicked look in Harry's direction when the Gryffindor let out a much louder gasp of pain and crumpled to the floor.

Vlad had no idea what was making Harry suffer, but he immediately crouched close to the other boy's frame and hastily clutched at the thin wrist scraping at the lightning-bolt scar. He felt helpless again, powerless in the face of a life-and-death situation. In a brief moment of clarity, he remembered to snap his fingers and a burst of red sparks shot into the sky. Vlad could only hope that help would arrive soon.

The entire time, the young vampire kept panic-stricken eyes upon the black figure. It seemed to disregard their presence, focused upon the blood it was drinking. But when Vlad had sent the sparks out, it abruptly lifted its head and focused upon the two boys for the first time.

Desperate, Vlad tried to make eye contact, hoping to gain some sort of hold over the thing before him. But the hood covered its face too well and the young vampire realized with dread that hypnotism wouldn't help him this time.

The black creature began to rise up, hovering closer and closer as Harry began to whimper and moan louder and louder. Vlad crouched helplessly, trying in vain to try and drag the Gryffindor with him. Just as the thing was a few feet away and about to lunge, the young vampire clenched his eyes shut and turned face away. He waited for the pain to come, waited for his death to come unbidden.

But the only thing that he heard was a sudden roar and the slight rustle of a body leaping over his own. A shriek followed the appearance of the new entity and only when Vlad was still breathing and alive a few moments later did he dare to open his eyes and slowly turn to seek out his rescuer.

A sleek, pitch-black panther prowled the clearing, its strong muscles rippling underneath its fur. Its long tail twitched back and forth in agitation and its mouth was open in a threatening growl with all of its lethal teeth displayed as warning. Vlad shuddered a little at the magic enveloping the animal and he stared at it pace for the longest time.

Then he made eye contact and he suddenly felt a sense of déjà vu. He had only seen that dichotomy of electric blue and striking emerald in one feline before…

"Nox?" Vlad whispered in surprise.

The panther froze at the word and something akin to a purr escaped its throat. As if that single syllable had solidified something, the large cat quickly made its way to Vlad's side and curled up protectively around him.

"You've got to be kidding," Vlad said wondrously. He tentatively reached out a hand and gently rubbed his familiar behind the ears. "It really is you." A slight smile touched his lips. "I should have known my father wouldn't choose a normal cat."

So he was right when he had assumed Nox wasn't a Kneazle. It seemed he had a cat that could turn into a panther…and that was perfectly alright. He wasn't going to argue it when his familiar had just saved him from an untimely death.

"Do you think you can help me bring Harry back?" Vlad asked Nox. The panther gave a quick look at the Gryffindor's now limp form and gave something akin to a shrug of approval.

For the first time since entering the Forbidden Forest, the young vampire felt secure and safe. He laughed and helped haul Harry's unconscious body on to Nox's back. He wasn't worried about finding his way back to the castle. He was fairly sure that if his familiar could find his way out here, he could find his way back.

…Right?

~0~

_Hello Vladdy!_

_You can't imagine how proud I am of you! A detention? _

_Exactly what I expected from you. I was so pleased to see the letter the Headmaster sent._

_And it seems he mentioned something about your pet? _

_I was sure I told you that the thing was a sealed creature, but I suppose it slipped my mind._

_But I suppose you know now, right? I told you it was a wonderful gift! _

_We should celebrate when you get home! Just a few more days, am I right, Vladdy?_

_I was getting worried you were only getting good grades. It's good to know you got into some trouble. _

_Your Father_

* * *

**Wow, I guess I really am on a roll right now.**

**Anyways not much to say for this chapter, I guess. Just that yes, they didn't run into the centaurs. There's a reason for that. **

**And I kind of hinted that Nox was more than he seemed. I never really outright said he was a Kneazle, right? He is a sealed creature. His true and more powerful form, the magical panther, is sealed away. Typically he looks like a normal black cat. But in reality, he is actually the form he was in this chapter. And no, Nox can't dictate when he can switch between the two forms. Can you guess what does?**

**Till next time! **


	15. Sometimes It's All About the Timing

**I do not own anything that will get me sued.**

**And ew, I read through this again and saw a few VERY obvious errors grammatically. It was ugly and terrible so I went and edited it. Just FYI even though the changes are so tiny you probably wouldn't notice them. **

**And thank you once again to my reviewers! **

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**Chapter 15: Sometimes It's About the Timing**

It turned out that Vlad needn't have worried about finding his way back alone. Harry regained consciousness quickly and Hagrid had seen the red sparks the young vampire had sent up, catching the two boys just a few moments following the black creature's disappearance. The half-giant had stared at Nox's larger form for a long moment of astonishment – and a little too much adoration – before breaking into giddy exclamations of how handsome the feline was. Needless to say, Nox was more than pleased with the attention and gob smacked expressions graced the rest of the students (Draco and Fang included).

Upon returning to the castle in the dead of the night, the group of students found Professor McGonagall waiting for them. She had been assigned to ensure all of them were back and once she did, she waved them all off to their dormitories with the exception of Vlad and his familiar. Nox had remained at the young vampire's side, slightly angled as if to shield Vlad from any further attacks. Both Slytherin student and magical creature trailed the Transfigurations teacher up to a staircase guarded by a stone statue.

"Bubble gum," Professor McGonagall said with a slight tightening of her mouth. It was clear that the passcode was less than what the woman would have liked, but the statue leaped to the side at the word, giving them passage.

A sense of foreboding overcame Vlad as he followed his professor. He knew where they were going to: the headmaster's office. But surely he hadn't done anything warranting this. He had already served his detention; hopefully he had not accidentally done anything else. When Professor McGonagall opened the door and ushered Vlad inside, the vampire couldn't help but gape.

The office was one of the queerest he had ever seen in one of those garishly curious-yet-stinging-my-eyes-a-little-bit sort of ways. Little silver contraptions were spinning of their own accord or twisting around, shelves upon shelves of books lined the walls, models of things Vlad didn't recognize were scattered about, scrolls of untold secrets were tucked into the small crevices throughout the room, glowing cabinets cast a slight hue illuminating the room further, and the large windows behind the headmaster's desk displayed the night sky in all of its glory. The place was predominantly gold and crimson, most likely reminiscent of the headmaster's own Gryffindor House. The aged man's desk was littered with papers and multiple quills, one of which was still absently scribbling away. When the vampire finally caught sight of a stand housing a majestic bird, he almost gasped. The flaming beauty of it had Vlad avidly staring, his eyes catching the flickering of the feathers as if the creature was a flickering flame unto its own.

A soft growl of annoyance from Nox dragged Vlad away from his observations, just in time for the headmaster to lower his gaze upon the young Slytherin. A cheerful smile touched the older wizard's face and when he spoke, it was laced with a soothing tone underlying the words. "Thank you Minerva for the explanation. You may go; I'm sure you are tired. I will just have a quick word with Mr. Dracula – no worries."

The Transfigurations professor nodded in respect and then swiftly left the two wizards to themselves.

They just observed each other for the longest time. Vlad carefully noted the sky-blue hue of the headmaster's eyes, so similar and yet so different from his own darker shade. The pair of eyes was set into a aged face, but the vampire saw far too much vitality and power within the man's expression to believe the age equaled frailty. If anything, the snow-white color of the wizard's beard and hair meant that he had a great many more years of experience. The vampire had read about this wizard's achievements. The man's robes were a little on the strange side, but Vlad knew that looks could be deceiving and he hardly expected anything less; he had seen his own grandfather's choice in clothing and the headmaster's wardrobe was actually quite an improvement.

The scrutinizing between them abruptly died when Vlad felt the faintest brushing against his mind. He immediately recoiled from the ethereal touch and his eyes sharpened upon the headmaster's face, but before he could say or do anything, the touch disappeared – leaving Vlad wondering if it had ever really been there.

"I noticed you were admiring Fawkes," Professor Dumbledore said, continuing as if he had not noticed whatever had transpired a moment ago. "I often find myself admiring my friend's beauty too. Phoenixes are rare; I am fortunate to have acquainted myself with one."

Vlad felt his nerves coming to the surface again. He was facing and speaking to the highest authority in the castle and one of the most powerful wizards of the century. "I've read about them. The descriptions understate how amazing they are."

Fawkes seemed pleased by the compliment, preening at the words. Nox seemed less entertained by the praise, however. He bared his teeth a little and nudged his body against Vlad's legs in an attempt to draw his attention away from the phoenix.

Professor Dumbledore laughed at the sight. "I see your own familiar is unhappy. Well, I must say he is quite dashing himself." His chuckles died down before a more composed and sober expression replaced his mirth. "As dashing as he is though, I'm afraid we do not allow any magical creatures outside of the student list we sent with your invitation letter during the summer."

"I had no idea, sir," Vlad replied, making sure to keep his voice as respectful as possible. He was hardly going to give up Nox now. "My father bought my familiar for me. I thought Nox was just a Kneazle before now."

"Ah…" The wizard seemed absently thoughtful at his student's words. Then he nodded understandingly and relented, "You have chosen your familiar already; there is no changing what has already been done. So long as you had not intended to purposefully break one of our set rules I suppose I find no harm in allowing you to keep your familiar here."

Vlad allowed a touch of relief course through him, but kept his face carefully composed. "Thank you, sir. That means a lot to me."

The professor nodded again – a little absently – with his eyes focused back upon Vlad's face. The vampire stood quietly for some form of dismissal, some indication that he could leave. But when none came, he awkwardly shuffled a little in place. Just when Vlad had decided perhaps departing was the best option, the headmaster said, "You are a very interesting person, Mr. Dracula."

Vlad froze at those words; they hardly seemed to bode well. The only other person who ever referred to him as 'interesting' was the Bloody Baron and Vlad hoped with all his might that the headmaster had not figured out he was a vampire. "Why do you say that, sir?"

"All students are interesting, young man. But you are perhaps one of the few students in history who is capable of wandless magic at so young an age. Have you had any previous training?"

A slight breath of relief left Vlad's lips. So that was it. He could do this. He was used to this. He knew by now that his magical ability was something worth noting in the wizards' world. "I'm not so sure, Professor. It's just more…natural to me."

"Remarkable. Did Ollivander not find a matching wand for you, then?"

"Ollivanders?" A look of clear confusion flickered across Vlad's face. Who was that? Was he supposed to know a person by that name?

"You should have met him when getting your wand," the headmaster supplied. "Surely you saw his shop when passing through Diagon Alley."

Okay, swallow, breathe. Vlad couldn't just tell a wizard – immensely powerful or not – that he hadn't actually gone to the Alley and had instead visited a vampire market for his supplies before school began. That would sound farfetched at best and revealing at the worst. He could do this, lie to the headmaster. Even if his heart was racing and his hands threatened to tremble under the man's gaze, Vlad knew he _had_ to pull this off. "Oh, the wand maker? We never went to his place. My family and I just believed that I wouldn't need a wand."

"Really? Did your family not just presume it was accidental magic?"

Vlad fought to keep his composure. He had forgotten about that particular tidbit. What else could he say? "Sir, my family knows magic relatively well and they told me that I was already using the magic well enough. I was able to actually control it, you see."

The old wizard was quiet for only the briefest of moments before he was smiling again. "That is absolutely fascinating, Mr. Dracula. You must be very talented to have been recognized so early. And very brave; I received a message from Hagrid just before you came detailing your detention and it was very noble of you to stay with Mr. Potter when he fell." The professor seemed to go quiet again afterward, which Vlad began to take as a dismissal. But then he continued, "Just humor me one last time before you go. Tell me, how are you liking Hogwarts so far?"

Vlad blinked at the placidity of the question. It seemed merely curious and he relaxed. "Oh, it is wonderful here, sir. I really enjoy it."

The man nodded once more with a gentle smile upon his face, this time granting the young vampire permission to depart.

~0~

Vlad was not exactly startled to find Draco waiting for him alone in the Common Room with silencing spells and certain misdirecting wards blocking all of the entrances. The silencing spells were a few years of education away yet and the wards even more so. But the young vampire only raised an eyebrow at the display of magic and seated himself on one of the armchairs across from Draco's own seat. Nox trailed him, settling at his feet like a gigantic cat sleepily dozing.

"Don't be so surprised," Draco mused sarcastically. "You've seen what I can do with the troll. I've only learned a few spells from the later years but I've learned the ones my family thought I would need. And what do you know? I do need them."

Vlad sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Look, if this is about the mirror again –"

"Don't insult me," the Malfoy heir interrupted. "I said I would let it go and I did. Don't bring it up again unless you have to." He laid his chin upon the knuckles of one of his hands and peered at Vlad as if he was trying to dissect an unknown creature. "You never told me what happened during Halloween when you saved me."

Vlad was a little taken aback. It was just so sudden to have that topic brought up again. He had been hoping that it had fallen to the wayside, but he should have known better. This particular Malfoy owed him a Life Debt still. Of course Draco wouldn't forget about it. And maybe it was because it was the dead of the night or maybe it was because he wanted to actually tell somebody or maybe it was because he had just nearly died again, but Vlad abruptly decided to tell his Housemate a portion of the truth. He hoped it wasn't a trick of the light, but he thought he saw just sincere curiosity in Draco's eyes. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"I didn't really know what I had done," Vlad said before his mind could rationalize him out of it. "At the time, I was just panicked. It was a lot like accidental magic. The troll was about to kill us both and…well, I told it to go away."

The blonde merely blinked. "You told it to go away."

"I hypnotized it. I just looked at it in the eyes and then it obeyed me."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Draco pursed his lips and straightened in his seat. "I expected it to be far more climactic."

Vlad laughed in both relief and apprehension. You could never know whether that was a good or bad thing in the Malfoy world. "I told you before: I didn't really do much and you don't really owe me much."

"My magic thinks otherwise," the Malfoy heir replied. "Can you still do it? Hypnotize people just by looking at them?"

"No," Vlad lied, the words coming off his tongue like melted butter. It made him feel sick how often he was beginning to find himself twisting the truth. "No, I can't. It was just a one time thing only."

Draco eyed him as if he knew that the vampire was lying, but then he shrugged in acquiesce. Then he did another roundabout, saying, "Most people don't trust my family."

Vlad decided it would be wisest not to say anything about that.

"They think we're Death Eaters. They think my father was one of the Dark Lord's followers back in the day." Draco leaned forward, his arms braced on his knees. "Don't pretend you haven't heard the rumors. What do you think?"

The blonde had already made it clear what the answer truly was. If the Malfoys weren't a Dark family and devoted to the Dark Lord, then Vlad would eat his cloak. It was too obvious not to come to that conclusion, especially since he had actually spent time in the family's company. There was something about them and almost all the rest of Slytherin House that set them apart from the rest of the wizards and witches Vlad had met. Whether it was for better or for worse…he wasn't so sure yet. After all, vampires were inherently evil creatures, even by their own definition. But Vlad had seen firsthand that there was no such thing as solid good or evil.

"I think you shouldn't make yourself a part of a set. I think _you_ should decide whether that's true or not, Draco, because I'm not so sure you know yourself," the vampire said honestly. He was too much a coward to say anything else, for fear that he might push away the only other student who would associate with him this freely.

"I won't ask any more questions, Vlad," the blonde finally replied. "You're too weird for your own good. And if I told everybody the strange sort of things you get yourself into, I'd probably end up looking like a madman. So maybe you can start talking a little more…and you won't have to worry so much about my telling about it."

It made Vlad smile a little at the roundabout way Draco had said he would be willing to keep secrets for him. He couldn't exactly trust the Malfoy heir completely yet; it would be a while before anybody would find out about his vampire heritage, if ever. But something about Draco's indirect promise made him feel like that "if ever" was less likely.

"Why?" Vlad asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Draco rolled his eyes. "If I don't, you just might end up doing something stupid like following me after hours again."

~0~

It just had to be the day before exams that Vlad heard Harry say, "We have no choice. He's going after the Stone tonight."

And the vampire didn't need to be told who "he" was. It had just been so close to the end of the year that Vlad had been hoping that Quirrell would stall. But apparently he didn't have that much time. To make things worse, the headmaster was absent. From what Vlad had heard, the man had left the day after his audience with him. The timing couldn't have been worse.

Common sense told Vlad to leave it be. If the trio wanted to go after the Stone, then he should let them do it and have them deal with the consequences. They were crazy to think they could stop a grown wizard. What could they do? Cast a tickling charm and make Quirrell laugh long enough to stop?

Following them would be a bad idea. Just as crazy. He couldn't do anything to help the three much. Vlad had been tempted to tell Draco, but the blonde had been a little more than stressed the last few days preparing for the exams and the vampire doubted the Malfoy heir would appreciate the distraction.

Don't do it, his mind told him. It wouldn't do you any good. It would be worse than Draco going to tell McGonagall about the dragon egg exchange.

That night, as he crept out of the Slytherin dorms (feeling horribly hypocritical), he wondered whether he should make a career of outdoing Draco.

* * *

**Hmm...nearly done with Vlad's first year. And yes, I will be articulating his summers. :) It's a fabulous time to introduce more key characters. The summers are actually probably (and arguably) the more important arcs I will be covering. It's when he's around his family more often. You didn't think I'd just leave out his family (and other vampires) and the TV show's episodes, did you? **

**Eh. This was more a filler chapter than anything else. **

**Till next time!**


	16. Outdoing Draco

**I do not own anything that could get me sued. **

**Thank you again to my reviewers! They always spur me on and encourage me to write more. :)**

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**Chapter 16: Outdoing Draco**

It was if the very castle itself could sense that something was wrong in the air. The stones were colder, more obsolete than they normally were. The chill pervading the evening air seemed to coalesce into a solid mist of _freezing_ and the entire structure was eerily still. If Vlad didn't know better, he would have thought he was the only living soul in the vicinity. As he crept down the hall, his very breath seemed magnified in the silence and every step he took made him cringe slightly.

He was used to the dark; it was when his family was most active. Perhaps one of the few benefits of being the child of vampires was that he had been raised to believe the night his domain, something that he shouldn't fear. Vlad had never been afraid of the dark and while he was no stranger to apprehension, he never actually worried about whether monsters or other creatures would creep up on him. The creatures of nightmares _were_ his family and family acquaintances.

Yet this different. Vlad's eyes searched the darkness with an actual fear; every movement or imagined shadow was Quirrell. He wasn't positive, but he was fairly sure that the creature he had seen during detention was his Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Why or how his professor had laid hands upon the unicorns were beyond Vlad, but he knew nothing else that would commit such a terrible crime.

Vlad tried to not dwell on such thoughts for too long. They set his nerves on edge – at least more than they already were – and it just served as more fodder towards his "reasons to turn back." He was a little discomfited by the fact that he had yet to cross another soul in the castle. Not even Mrs. Norris had made an appearance yet, and the cat had an uncanny knack for hunting him out. It was too easy, but by the time he found himself in front of the door on the Third Floor, Vlad figured that fate probably supported his impending doom.

His hand gently pushed open the wooden door, not at all surprised that it was already open and expecting the sight of a sleeping dog in front of him. He had left relatively late in the night, after all, and he was sure that Quirrell had already had a head start. What he didn't expect to see was a very familiar Invisibility Cloak strewn across the floor.

Of course. Of course the three Gryffindors were already here. Vlad sighed but continued on, picking up the Cloak to fold and tuck into his robe pocket. Normally, he would be turning heel and running away at the sight of a three-headed creature like that. But he had been expecting it. Whatever lie ahead, though, he had to deal with himself.

Bats, he had to be crazy. Was crazy an inherited trait?

Vlad opened the trapdoor and peered inside, hoping to see something he could land on. Snapping his fingers, a small ball of light appeared floating beside his hand. He ushered the light further down and his eyes widened when he saw the plant below, breaking the fall. It looked very familiar, something he had heard Neville gushing over during the last few weeks…Devil's Snare? If he remembered correctly, then fire would loosen its death grip. The young vampire groaned, wondering again why he was doing this, before jumping down.

The plant was a surprisingly soft material to fall on. He sat reluctant to move, but when the tendrils of the Snare began to inch towards him, Vlad snapped his fingers again to ignite the surrounding green. Immediately, the magical plant shrunk away and the young vampire let out a short yelp as he plummeted a little further. He landed heavily on feet and blinked a little to get his bearings. Above him was the plant and he was currently standing in a corridor leading to a door at the opposite end.

Fantastic. What was this, an obstacle course?

Vlad trudged further inside and opened the door to look into the next room. He actually groaned aloud when he saw a veritable storm of flying _keys_ (of all things!). It was more than clear what he would have to do in order to open the next door; one broom lay fallen on the floor and he curiously looked at the few keys that seemed to have lodged themselves in the wall. Maybe that was a side effect of picking up the broom. Lethal flying keys would then begin aiming for your head. Wonderful.

Vlad wondered briefly whether a summoning spell would work, but he realized that whoever created these defenses – as strange as they were – would probably be smarter than that and he didn't exactly know how to perform that spell properly yet anyway. He approached the broom with slight trepidation and glanced uneasily up at the fluttering keys. They were placid now, but he dreaded what would happen should he touch the broom.

He couldn't do this. This was a stupid idea. Maybe the Devil's Snare was okay and even the gigantic dog. But he couldn't even hypnotize these keys and he couldn't fly for his life. Of all the things to be absolute pants at!

The vampire stood pondering for a while before a solution dawned upon him. If he could just get all the keys lodged into some solid surface he could reach…

Before his courage could desert him, Vlad grabbed the broom handle and automatically began running. His prediction about lethal keys didn't disappoint; all of them had turned towards him and were shooting at him like angry, metal bees. He felt a little silly when a strangled yelp escaped his lips at the sight behind him before he firmly set his teeth. He could do this. He could.

Gathering all of the nerve he could, Vlad came to a screeching halt in a corner of the room. He waited. One second…two seconds…now!

He leapt to the side as a flurry of the keys went slamming into the floor and wall. Most of them were futilely stuck but a few had been far enough behind to keep their pursuit and a scant others and slammed into Vlad himself. He grimaced at the pain they caused but they were small cuts at best. So long as he didn't get _all_ of them slamming into him, he would be okay.

He repeated the action two more times before all of the keys were struggling feebly in their positions. While the sight was more comforting, Vlad was smart enough to know that they would worm their way free eventually. He hurriedly scanned them all, searching for the one key that would match the doorknob material and have the wings crumpled from previous use.

He found the old, brass key just in time. The first of the keys were beginning to free themselves and Vlad hastily opened the door and slammed it behind him, wincing at the sound of a few more keys slamming into the entrance behind him. He was just glad that it wasn't his head that had been there instead.

Turning his attention to the newest room, Vlad groaned aloud again. Really, a chess game? He had seen Wizard's Chess. His dorm mates played often enough for him to know how complicated and violent it could get. Those chess pieces had serious attitude enchanted into them and he had a feeling that violence would be emphasized in this particular game.

His breath caught when he saw a certain redhead sprawled on the floor of the chessboard. Ron must have been hurt somehow as the three had passed through and now he was out cold. A part of Vlad wanted to go and help him. But a greater part of him pushed on and he turned away with a firm line to his mouth. If Harry and Hermione had thought it okay to leave Ron to himself for now, then he must not be too bad. Vlad didn't know enough healing to help much. Now he had to worry if the chess pieces would hurt him enough to knock him unconscious like it had done the Gryffindor.

But looking closer, a feeling of relief blossomed through his chest. There had been only two sets of pieces and apparently the three Gryffindors had already played through and so had Quirrell. Which meant that Vlad didn't have to play with so few pieces left intact to utilize. The vampire approached the enormous board cautiously and flicked his eyes in every direction, watching for some chess piece set on attacking him. When nothing happened, he made a mad dash across to the other side and relaxed when he safely had his hand on the doorknob to the next room. He let out a soft breath, believing he was clear.

Until a chunk of white chess piece slammed viciously into the wall just a few inches away from his head.

Vlad shouted in alarm and didn't wait around to see whoever or whatever had thrown to maim. He threw open the door in front of him and once again slammed the door behind him to hear a solid thunk. His chest heaved at yet another close call and it took him a few moments to gather himself and look up.

The smell was the first thing that told him what was in the room. His mind flashed back to Halloween night and he steeled himself for another troll to defeat. He wouldn't hesitate to use his hypnotism this time. He knew what to do now.

But his resolve dissolved when he saw that the troll in the room was in fact unmoving and undoubtedly dead. Its rotting flesh made Vlad gag and he tried not to look at the gore of the thing's skull caved in upon itself. He ran past it, his eyes averted and prepared to open the door to the next room.

Vlad hesitated, though, when he heard voices. He slowly leaned his head against the wood and listened at the indecipherable words beyond. It sounded like the two still-functional Gryffindors and a combination of relief and worry engulfed him. It seemed like they weren't yet with Quirrell and that meant they were still safe. But that also meant the professor was further ahead and quite possibly already in possession of the Stone.

Yet something stilled Vlad's hand. He stood, unmoving. If he opened the door, then he would be revealing himself to the Gryffindors. And he had no idea how they would take it. Would they believe he was on Quirrell's side? Would they think he was here to steal the Stone? Surely, he could explain to them. But then…then he would be _noticed_. If they all left tonight alive and well, then he would be included in the story that they would have to report to the professors and then whatever precarious normalcy Vlad had achieved here would be gone. He had no doubt that the teachers would remember this, and he would become something to watch.

And he didn't want that. He was already insane to be down here. Hadn't he just wanted a normal school year with other normal kids his age?

He should have known being with wizards would only be marginally less strange than being with his vampire family.

Yet he liked it, this strange sort of normal. People here accepted him in their own way and he was good at what he did, good at the classes he took. He saw a future here and a chance to escape his vampire heritage. Vlad didn't want to give that up. And Draco was beginning to come around. Maybe a few nudges here and there would improve the blonde, but the Malfoy heir was as close a friend the vampire had ever made in his entire eleven years of life.

The only way to preserve the way he was living now was to somehow continue the rest of the way unnoticed. Leave this place alive without being implicated in the retelling of the evening's events.

Fingering the Invisibility Cloak he had picked up, Vlad thought that maybe fate was more forgiving than he had thought. His mind made up, the vampire took out the Cloak and pulled it on, making sure his entire body was out of view. Then, armed with anonymity, he gingerly opened the door to the next room.

He made sure to do it as quietly as possible, slipping inside with only a whisper of his footfalls to indicate that he was there. Vlad listened to their voices, just waiting for them to pause midsentence and see the door mysteriously opening by itself. But the two continued talking, their backs to the entrance and completely occupied by whatever was laid before them. Vlad silently closed the door behind him and cautiously approached the duo to see what they were investigating. Glancing back, he was startled to see purple flames blocking the way back and looked with a little panic at the black flames blocking the way forward. How he had passed through the purple flame was beyond him, but he doubted that going back would be as easy as it had been coming in.

Hermione was reading a piece of paper several times in front of a long table with an array of potion flasks in front of her, her eyes roaming the page over and over again. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing at them. Vlad had no idea how long she had been doing that, but at last, she clapped her hands.

"Got it," she said. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire – towards the Stone."

Vlad glanced at the bottle and frowned. There was hardly another swallow left.

Harry voiced the same observation a moment later and the Gryffindors found themselves looking at each other.

"Which one will get you back through the purple flames?" Harry asked. Watching Hermione point towards a rounded bottle at the end of the line, the boy said, "You drink that." The other two were clearly about to protest, but Harry continued, "No, listen, get back and get Ron. Grab brooms from the flying-key room, they'll get out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore; we need him. I might be able to hold off Snape for a while, but I'm really no match for him."

Oh, for the love of garlic. They _still _thought Professor Snape was the one responsible. In Vlad's mind, he had no idea how they were still dead-set on that idea but he could hardly correct them now. And was Harry trying to get himself killed? There was no chance that the First Year wizard would last even a second against a fully trained one. Vlad knew he wouldn't last, and while he wasn't trying to be arrogant, he knew he could perform more spells than Harry could. The vampire looked helplessly at the two and wondered which he should follow. If he left now, he might be able to get to the owlery before Hermione to bring Dumbledore faster. But a greater part of him told him that Harry would benefit from help in the next room.

There was just the problem of the flames.

Meanwhile, Hermione had enveloped Harry in a fierce hug. Her voice was soft because her face was buried in her friend's shoulder. "Harry, what are you going to do if You-Know-Who is with Snape?"

What? Voldemort? The Dark Lord? But wasn't he dead? Vlad felt like a heavy stone had settled in his stomach. This was far more than it looked, wasn't it? What had he gotten himself into?

"I've been lucky before," Harry replied sheepishly in an attempt to placate his friend. "I'll be okay."

"You're a great wizard, Harry."

The Boy-Who-Lived flushed. "I'm not as good as you."

"Oh! Books and cleverness! There are more important things in life…and, Harry, be careful, okay?"

It made Vlad a little sad to watch. Something within him ached to have somebody just as willing to offer that same support, that same care for him.

"You drink yours first," Harry said.

Hermione gave Harry's emerald eyes one last searching look before she went to grasp the bottle and swallowed its contents. She shivered at the sensation and murmured, "It's cold."

"Quick, go before it wears off!"

The girl bit her lip and seemed on the verge of staying. But her resolve solidified and she turned on her heel and safely exited back the way she had originally come.

It was only Harry and Vlad now. The vampire watched silently as the Gryffindor sighed and slowly grasped the small bottle. Vlad could see how Harry's hands trembled the slightest bit, but the boy didn't hesitate as he swallowed the last of the potion. A trace of respect lingered on the vampire's tongue at the pure courage Harry displayed and his eyes followed the other's form exit the room into the next.

Now completely alone, Vlad stepped forward and fingered the now-empty bottle allowing passage forward. He wondered what he was supposed to do now. Just leave? Surely those black flames would hurt him should he try to go through them.

But…something akin to recognition tickled the corners of Vlad's mind as he stared at the flames. He had seen them before. A long time ago.

Then it came to him. When he had been far younger – perhaps six or seven – and a little more open to the option of becoming a vampire, his father had enthusiastically showed his son the different flames a vampire could create. There was a great variety, something for almost every color. But the one that stood out most in his mind now was the lethal black flame his father had showed him last.

"Be careful with this one, Vladdy," his father had chuckled. "This one can burn through anything and wants to burn everything. At least…anything that's not a vampire. If you just concentrate enough, you can make them just tickle. Try it, Vladdy!"

And he had. For the briefest of moments, his small childlike hands had just hovered in the flames unharmed.

It had been years, but Vlad hoped that if he just did the same now, he could pass through. If it didn't work, then he hoped that his father had a coffin ready for him back home. It would be a quick death.

Vlad slowly approached the flames and ever so cautiously placed one hand at the edge of the flames. He felt nothing and when that reassured him, he pushed further until his whole body was following. He wasn't burning and only the faintest of tickling sensations encompassed his body. For a moment he could see nothing but dark fire. Then he was on the other side, in the last chamber.

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**Hehe, so I just had to get this chapter out. And I guess I'll be finishing out Year One a lot earlier than I thought. Meh. I thought for sure it would go past 20 chapters but I guess I'll just go with it. **

**Parts of this ARE from the Sorcerer's Stone. Don't sue me. Please. I know I don't own the stuff. **

**And next chapter is hopefully the climax :D**

**Till next time!**


	17. Mirror, Mirror

**I do not own anything that will get me sued.**

**Thank you to my reviewers! Those comments (and my general desire to write) keep me going :)**

**And um, I think it gets a little more dark/graphic/whatever you want to call it in this chapter than it has been in the last few chapters. Sort of. Depends on your definition of it. So...warning? **

* * *

**Chapter 17: Mirror, Mirror**

If Vlad wanted to be perfectly honest, he would admit that he had an irrational urge to run forward and shout, "I told you so!"

Because really, seeing Harry staring dumbfounded at Quirrell was no surprise at all to him. It was almost a relief because it meant that he had been correct and that his Head of House was, in fact, innocent of all charges the Gryffindors had accused him with. Vlad didn't particularly like nor dislike Professor Snape, but he was willing to admit that the man was not the type to actively aim for his personal wealth and immortality through a rock.

"But…Snape tried to kill me!" Harry exclaimed, already in the middle of an exchange with the professor in front of him.

"No, you stupid child. I tried to kill you. If only your companion, Hermione Granger, hadn't interfered! I'd have managed even better if Snape wasn't trying to mutter a countercurse under his breath to save you."

Vlad allowed himself a smug smile despite the fact that he was now probably trapped in a room with a lethal older wizard out to commit a robbery. Professor Snape had been trying to _save_ Harry. That placed the Potions Master in higher regard within Vlad's mind.

But he didn't have the luxury of pondering too much upon it because the next moment, Quirrell was snapping his fingers and ropes were trapping Harry in a choking hold. The Gryffindor gasped as he faltered and lost his balance, falling heavily on the floor. Vlad stared a little wide-eyed at the professor's clear display of wandless magic – with a snap, no less! – but he scrambled forward a little bit in hopes of helping Harry.

Vlad thanked whatever deities existed out there that Quirrell was not one for stereotypical evil villain theatrics. After binding Harry, the man swiftly turned back to the large mirror – the only object in the entire room. His mind was intently focusing upon the task before him and while Vlad had no idea how the man was going to find a near-legendary stone in a mirror of all things, he was just glad the professor was momentarily distracted.

He was a hairsbreadth away from Harry's form when Quirrell's voice froze him in place. "The mirror is the key to finding the Stone," he murmured, scanning the frame. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this…"

"I saw you and Snape in the forest –" Harry blurted desperately and Vlad wanted to slap a hand over the Gryffindor's mouth. This wasn't helping the vampire's impression that Harry was suicidal.

"Yes, yes," Quirrell said absentmindedly. But his gaze was completely solidified hungrily upon the mirror. "I see myself holding the Stone and presenting it to my master…but why can I not obtain it!"

Vlad hastily turned towards Harry, begging him beneath his invisibility to not reply.

"But Snape always seemed to hate me so much."

"Oh, he does," Quirrell said casually. "Heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, did you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead."

The mention of Harry's father caught the Gryffindor's attention and Vlad didn't miss the slight flicker of hunger at that brief commentary. A wave of pity overcame the vampire for a moment; he could only imagine how difficult it must have been to grow up without parents. He had grown up with one missing and that alone was difficult. But that pity quickly died away when Harry opened his mouth yet again.

"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing. I thought Snape was threatening you…"

For the first time, fear flitted across Quirrell's face. "Sometimes," he said, "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions. He is a great wizard and I am weak…and he can be very displeased when I do not perform to his expectations."

"You mean he was there in the classroom with you?" Harry gasped.

Please, please, please shut up, Vlad thought. You can't keep on provoking the crazy wizard!

"He is with me wherever I go," Quirrell whispered hoarsely. "I met him during my travels around the world. I was foolish then. Lord Voldemort showed me that there is no good and evil, only power and those too weak to seek it." The man shivered suddenly. "He does not forgive easily. After I failed to obtain the Stone at Gringotts, he punished me and decided to keep a closer watch on me…" Quirrell's voice trialed away as if he had abruptly lost interest in his tale. His gaze was back on the mirror as he cursed under his breath. "I don't understand. Is the Stone _inside_ the mirror?"

The mirror…Vlad was almost afraid to look. His last experience with one had not been a good one. Glancing at the golden frame of this one, he examined it, trying to figure out the puzzle. But the closer and longer he looked, a sense of dread collected in his chest because the realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

This mirror was exactly the same as the one in Malfoy Manor.

But it wasn't quite the same, upon another glance. The strange words adorning the top of the frame were different and this one seemed to have a less aged look to it as if it had spent far less time in a dusty treasury. Vlad averted his eyes and desperately told himself not to look in the mirror. What if this time it was worse?

Harry was beginning to try and inch forwards without Quirrell's noticing, but the ropes were too tight and the older wizard's next words froze both boys – invisible and visible – in place again.

"What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!"

And to both Vlad's and Harry's horror, a voice answered. A voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself. "Use the boy…"

The professor rounded on the Gryffindor. "Boy, come here."

Vlad made a desperate grab for Harry, but Quirrell had already summoned the Gryffindor's struggling form and had that small body shoved in front of the mirror.

"Tell me what you see," Quirrell breathed.

And then Vlad made the mistake of looking in the mirror. While lunging for Harry, he had involuntarily landed on his hands and knees at the perfect angle to see the mirror's gleaming surface. Once his eyes had locked upon it, he found that he couldn't quite look away like before and a panic began to surface within him.

But then he began to see the image the mirror was showing him and panic gave way to astonishment.

He was walking out of a simple home, one that was neatly painted several different hues of brown and the occasional white. There was no ominous mansion complete with a withering garden at the front and hovering clouds in the sky. No, this house was perfectly normal amongst its neighbors and even the bright hue of blue pervaded the atmosphere above. He was stepping out on to the stone steps leading to the street outside and his mouth almost fell open when he saw his sister – dressed in a bright white garb no less! – bound out behind him and smile. She seemed, for the entire world, happy to see him and then she turned to wave goodbye to his parents who were standing arm in arm and smiling right back like a normal couple. None of them had fangs or wore oppressive cloaks. They were all dressed in something a normal family would wear every day and the neighbors were grinning and greeting them (was that Draco giving him a high-five?) as the day started.

Vlad had never seen something so wondrously incredible before. It was everything he had ever wanted, everything he could possibly ask for. There it was, displayed before him in perfect replication of his greatest dreams. His heart ached so badly for it that he wanted to sob at the sight.

_It's not real._

Vlad choked quietly to himself at those words, said by the exact same voice that had spoken to him at Draco's Christmas party.

_It's just an image. Nothing is ever as perfect as you want it to be. _

The only thing that kept Vlad from screaming aloud was the fact that Quirrell was still well and alive – in perfect condition to still hurt both him and Harry.

_This isn't real. Focus. There are more important things at hand…_

Vlad couldn't believe that he was actually listening to the voice, but it had a point. That was just a mirror image. Just like the one on Christmas had been. He couldn't dwell on it, not with danger still so very real. So he closed off his heart for a moment as he wrenched his eyes away from his dream personified and turned to look at Harry.

The Gryffindor was still poised in front of the mirror, staring in panic and worry at the mirror. Vlad had no idea what Harry was seeing, but he hoped that it was good enough to appease Quirrell. He was looking closely when Harry's eyes widened just the smallest bit and he noted how the other boy's hand twitched minutely towards his left pocket.

Please don't let that be what I think it is…

"Well?" Quirrell demanded. "What do you see?"

"I-I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," Harry stuttered. "I've just won the House Cup for Gryffindor…"

The professor cursed again under his breath and moved to shove the boy to the side when the disembodied voice spoke again.

"He lies…allow me to speak to him…"

Quirrell seemed prepared to protest, but a flicker of pain lanced across the man's face and he meekly obeyed within the next moment, reaching up towards his turban. Both Harry and Vlad stood rooted in place as the layers swathing the man's skull slowly fell away. And when it was completely gone and Quirrell had turned around, the two of them were petrified at the sight.

Vlad would have screamed if he could have and he felt bile coat the back of his tongue. Where there should have been the back of Quirrell's head was a monstrous, chalk-white face – almost inhuman in structure.

"Harry Potter," it whispered. "See what you have forced me to become? I am now nothing more than a wraith…but I _have_ survived and I will need what you have in your pocket to become whole again…"

Harry began to stumble backwards and Vlad jumped to the side, nearly colliding with the Gryffindor's body at the sudden move.

"Don't be a fool," the thing hissed. "Join me…I can bring your parents back to you…"

"Liar!" Harry shouted. "You're a liar!" And his voice was so agonizingly desperate that Vlad felt that pity again.

"I can bring them back…I had no choice, Harry…war is war and your parents knew what they were risking when they chose a side…"

"You killed them! You took them away from me!"

"Just give me the Stone, Harry, and I can fix everything…"

Vlad felt sick. The monster – Voldemort – was torturing Harry in one of the few ways that would truly affect the Gryffindor. Harry was strong but he was only a child who had lost his parents at a very young age. And like all orphans who had never known their parents, it was probably the single thing Harry wished for: a family. It was as if Voldemort was stabbing the metaphorical knife in every emotional wound Harry had ever had.

"Join me…"

In a flurry of emotion, Harry screamed, "Never!" And then he was running for the flaming exit a moment later.

Vlad jolted into motion, dashing after Harry. But Quirrell got there first and before the vampire had a chance to blink, the monster had knocked the Gryffindor unconscious with a spell.

No, no, no, no. Complete horror was enveloping Vlad's mind. He couldn't let Quirrell get to the Stone. He couldn't let Voldemort have it. He had finally found his place here in the Wizarding World and he was hardly going to have it go to ruins because a Dark Lord had somehow survived a killing curse to inhabit the back of his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's head.

Vlad scrambled as fast as he could to Harry's unmoving form as Quirrell began to examine the boy's body and plunged his hand into the Gryffindor's left pocket. His fingers grasped the rough edges of a stone and he quickly withdrew before Voldemort or Quirrell noticed he was there. He was just thanking every spirit and deity out there that he had the Invisibility Cloak on.

As the professor searched Harry's pockets and found nothing, his frustration mounting, Vlad clutched the Stone to his chest and pushed himself against the nearest wall, trying to flatten himself as far as he could. As the minutes ticked and it became clear that there was nothing to find, Quirrell gasped out, "Master, I cannot find it!"

"Fool!" the thing spat. "It is here! I can sense it! Find it!"

And search Quirrell did. Even Vlad could tell that Voldemort was becoming more and more enraged by the second and when probing Harry, the mirror, and even the bare surrounding vicinity gave the man nothing, he quietly and fearfully whispered, "Master…it is not here."

Vlad watched in terror as Quirrell let out an inhuman scream of agony and collapsed to the floor, writhing in his torture. The man scrabbled desperately at his face, clawing at it like it was burning and Vlad let out a terrified gasp as blood began to seep from the man's eyes and his nails dug deep enough to bring forth crimson liquid. Quirrell's legs began to twist at unnatural angles and when one of them let out a horrible, audible snap, Vlad felt the beginnings of tears coalesce at the corners of his eyes.

And almost as quickly as it had begun, it all stopped and Voldemort's chilling voice breathed, "You have failed me, Quirrell. You are useless to me now. Dumbledore comes as I speak and I shall leave you here as you deserve."

A black cloud formed where the back of Quirrell's head was and it formulated into a grotesque image of a face so decimated that Vlad could only make out the framings of a skull.

"I know you're here," the Dark Lord purred. "I know you have the Stone." And then what seemed to be the apparition's eyes abruptly locked on the exact place Vlad was standing.

Before the vampire could so much as hitch his breath in fear, the door to the room slammed open and whatever had been Lord Voldemort disappeared in the blink of an eye.

As Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape came running into the room, Vlad didn't let himself relax. His mind was numb from what had just happened and he was trying with everything he had not to look at Quirrell's destroyed body. The man was undoubtedly alive, but whether he would stay that way remained to be seen.

The child part of Vlad's brain told him to take off the Cloak and go running to the two professors that had just entered. They were here now. He was safe and wasn't it their job to take of these things? Giving them the Stone to care for made the most sense.

But then that would destroy whatever anonymity Vlad had created for himself and in the worst-case scenario, they would think he had done all of this. There was nothing proving otherwise; he was the only one who had been here the entire time in the room still conscious. What would they think?

_Don't show yourself. Keep the Stone…_

Vlad wanted to cry, scream, and yell. He didn't want whatever was in his head to be there and he hadn't wanted to see everything he had just did. But his desire for normalcy stayed his tongue and he quietly glanced down at the Stone still securely in his hands. The blood red hue of the coveted jewel glimmered up at him before he closed his hands around it and tucked it into one of his pockets.

Then he turned on his heel and left the room with the Cloak still keeping him out of sight.

~0~

Exams were canceled the following day. It was one of the small mercies in Vlad's life because he was fairly sure that he would have failed them. Instead, a great feast was held and the subsequent naming of the House Cup rallied the entire student body into a frenzy. His House was outraged when the headmaster rewarded Harry, Neville, Hermione, and Ron for their part in last night's escapade and the Gryffindors were predictably elated with their last-minute victory. The entire hype was infectious and whatever trauma or fear the three Gryffindors had experienced seemed to fly out the window during the Farewell Feast.

But Vlad could not have been less affected by it all. He couldn't quite bring himself to eat very much or smile very much or talk very much and when his House erupted in arguments and heated insults at the naming of the House Cup, Vlad only stared listlessly at his plate.

The images and the guilt tore at him. He couldn't erase Quirrell's torture or the hideous sight of a parasite on the back of a skull out of his mind and the fact that the Invisibility Cloak and Philosopher's Stone were currently tucked away in the corner of his trunk made him want to vomit. The Stone wasn't his. He hadn't meant to keep it. But what was he going to do? He couldn't just walk up and give it back to the headmaster and if he just left it for somebody to discover, who knew what sort of hands it would end up in? Vlad had grown to hate the thing in the few hours he had it because he could not figure out a way to get rid of it.

As everybody filed into the Hogwarts Express later and the trio gave Hagrid a gigantic goodbye hug, Vlad turned away and hastily found himself an empty compartment before locking the door behind him. He shoved his trunk into the hanger and threw himself into one of the seats.

A moment later, the telltale mutter of "Alohamora" and the flash of blonde hair had Draco shoving his way in before the door was locked once again. Vlad didn't bother looking at the other boy. He just couldn't, not with everything clouding and weighing upon his mind at the moment.

"What's wrong with you?" Draco asked when he had finally settled himself into the opposite seat.

"Nothing."

"I'm not stupid, Vlad. Something is wrong."

The vampire let out a small breath and leaned slightly further into his seat as the train jolted forward to begin its path home. "There's nothing."

Vlad gasped a second later as Draco fiercely gripped his arm and forced the vampire to look at him in the eye. "I'm. Not. Stupid. What's wrong?"

Vlad just stared into the grey hue of the Malfoy heir's eyes for the longest time before he finally smiled just the slightest bit and murmured, "Aw…you're worried about me."

That had Draco flustered like nothing else. "Wha- no! Excuse me, I'm just merely making an observation!"

The young vampire just continued to grin, his smile only getting wider and his eyes clearer. "You were worried."

"I was not!"

As the two of them fell into their respective arguments about whether it was true or not, Vlad allowed himself to relax just the slightest bit. Perhaps this wasn't exactly what he had been expecting or looking for when he had signed up for a magical school. But honestly, with Draco spluttering about the importance of keen observation and the general clamor of the students outside, Vlad found that he might not want it any other way. All of them (witches and wizards for bat's sake!) were far from normal, but maybe – just maybe – he could work with this.

And he didn't need a magical mirror to tell him that.

**End of Year One**

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**Well, honestly I think 17 chapters is a little short for one school year but I guess that's where I am. So there it is: Vlad's first year at Hogwarts! I did make some rather large changes in the HP plot; you can probably tell where!**

**Just to clarify, I will be writing the next six years as well and the summers in between. So this is far from the conclusion of this story.**

**As I progress through the years, the overall tone of this will turn decidedly more serious and less lighthearted so to speak. It isn't going to be exactly pretty. How can it be when the general Harry Potter series goes that way as the books progress? It's pretty much the same thing in the Young Dracula series too. The deviation from the HP series will begin to happen (obviously) in more and more noticeable ways as well. Just a heads up :) **

**And would you guys mind if I add an OC? The OC I'm thinking of will probably have some impact on Vlad's learning during the summer (no, it's not Bertrand) and maybe some views on life or whatnot, but other than that, the OC won't have THAT much impact otherwise - especially in the Harry Potter world. The OC will be part of a new setting I'll be adding on to the original Young Dracula TV series so it's more outside of school than anything else.**

**For those of you wanting to see Vlad's vampire side, you might have to wait a little longer. It will definitely surface earlier than in the TV series though so don't worry too much about it.**

**Anways, here's to Vlad's upcoming summer!**

**Till next time! **


	18. Stokely

**I do not own anything that will get me sued. **

**Thank you so much for the feedback to my question in the last chapter! It always helps. **

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**Chapter 18: Stokely**

"Are we there yet?"

"Oh, Master, I'm not quite –"

"For bat's sake…!"

Vlad sighed to himself and ran a hand across his face. After the Hogwarts Express had come to a stop at the station in London and he had said his goodbyes to Draco, he had been pleasantly surprised to see not only his father, but his sister and Renfield were also waiting. His father had a pair of sunglasses on and he was carefully avoiding the sunlight filtering through the station's windows, but that was to be expected considering it was daytime. Vlad had been happy to see that all three of them had come to greet him and he had excitedly told them so.

But, of course, his sister had scathingly told him that this had nothing to do with welcoming him and everything to do with their father's crazy decisions. Apparently, the Count had decided that living in Transylvania was too far from Vlad's school. So he had gone and bought an entirely new mansion in Scotland to live in while his son attended Hogwarts.

It was one of those things that Vlad almost expected from his father. Who else would be crazy enough to just uproot everything in order to keep an eye on his son? In a way, it made Vlad feel comforted that his father wanted to be near him badly enough to do such a thing, but it was also the current cause of his headache.

Because for all of his father's "impeccable ability to travel", they were currently lost in their new hometown of Stokely.

"Renfield, I think the sunlight is beginning to seep through the curtains back here. Can't you drive any faster?"

"I'm trying, Master!" their servant flustered. "It's just...this map makes no sense!"

The Count peeked his head out of the back of the car where it had been specifically designed for any vampire incapable of traveling via daylight. He glanced at the map in an effort to gain some sense of where they were, but the sun's rays had him quickly retreating. "Just…figure it out, Renfield!"

Ingrid groaned aloud and snarled to herself. "Why am I stuck with this pathetic excuse for a family?"

Everybody was being less than helpful, so Vlad finally forced himself to look at the map Renfield was holding and tried to assist the mortal in his frustration. After a brief glance over the entire thing, the young vampire let out a breath of exasperation and said, "Renfield, the map is _upside down_."

"…Oh. Thank you, young Master."

"Just _ask_ somebody for bat's sake," Ingrid snapped. "If we don't find the stupid place soon, I'm going to have an aneurysm."

Taking his sister's advice, Vlad quickly leaned over Renfield and rolled the driver's window down. He stuck his head out and saw a pleasant couple busily rummaging through their garage.

"Excuse me," Vlad called out to them. The pair looked over and smiled. "I'm sorry to bother you, but could you please tell us where this address is?" He held out the papers his father had obtained while purchasing the mansion.

"Oh," smiled the woman. "It's just right up the hill. You can't miss it."

The man whistled. "Wow, I thought nobody would ever buy that place. It's been empty for years, you know?"

"Perfect," Vlad muttered under his breath. But he thanked couple and soon Renfield was guiding the vehicle up the hill the pair had pointed out. Glancing at the rather isolated location, Vlad quietly hoped that the directions he had gained were incorrect – he would love to have their home surrounded by the normal ones down below – but of course it wasn't meant to be.

As they pulled up over the apex of the knoll, a mansion fit for the dead overlooked Stokely from its lofty position. It indeed looked like it had been abandoned for years, complete with the haunted house apparatus his family so loved in a home. He just exhaled heavily while his sister and father hastily left the cramped car to explore their new household, leaving Renfield to carry in their belongings.

Vlad slowly followed suit and trailed his family inside. He avoided touching the gate (it hung precariously close to collapsing) and plodded across the withered yard before crossing the threshold of the gigantic double door entrance.

Ingrid was already shooting for the highest tower, shouting down, "I claim the top room!"

Why she still bothered, Vlad had no idea. They all knew he would end up with it in the end; his father knew how much he loved the uppermost quarters. And as much as Vlad felt a twang of sympathy for his sister, he didn't feel guilty enough to relinquish it.

"Master Vlad! My goodness, this is just as terrible as the last one," Zoltan said, rolling his stuffed form inside.

"Great isn't it?" the Count crowed. "Picked it myself, you know."

Vlad sighed tiredly but allowed himself to smile a moment later as Nox nudged his leg. The feline had become its smaller form the day following his detention and had since stayed that way. The cat was understandably frazzled from the drive, stuck in the back with his father. Now that Nox was free to roam, he purred in contentment once more before springing away and into the halls beyond.

The Count watched his son silently for a moment before asking, "Vladdy, can you do your father a favor and clean this place up a bit? I would normally make Renfield do it, but he would take days."

By "clean up" his father was thinking about anything _but_ the actual definition. In the vampire world, cobwebs and years of dust were completely acceptable – even mandatory – for a decent home. The overall aged look and blackened colors suited his family's taste perfectly. What Vlad's father desired was probably a few lit candles here and there and their belongings arranged just as he liked it back in Transylvania.

Vlad nodded in reply and looked back towards the entrance where Renfield was finally lugging in the last of their luggage. The man was panting heavily from the excessive load and palpable relief overcame their servant's features when Vlad said, "I've got it from here, Renfield. Why don't you just re-park the car?"

Once the man had gone to do as he was told, the young vampire snapped his fingers to hover the baggage behind him and proceeded to walk through each room, lighting candles and settling their things as he went. The process was quickened considerably with the help of his magic and what would have taken Renfield many days of struggle was nearly completed by the time the sun began to set.

The only things still trailing Vlad as he walked were his belongings and he couldn't help but keep his school trunk close at hand. He knew his father would not rummage through his things – the man could have cared less for what his son had inside – but sometimes Zoltan liked to explore a little too much and his sister had a penchant for finding things he didn't want her to find. The first thing Vlad decided he would do once he had settled in his room was hide the Cloak and Stone he still had in his possession.

Entering the highest room in the mansion, Vlad looked up to see his sister getting to her feet. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Father said I could have this room."

"No he didn't!" Ingrid hissed. "You're just saying that!"

"Well, what do you think he's going to say when I ask him?" Vlad didn't like being this way, demanding what he wanted. But if there was one thing he wouldn't let up on, it was that his room be as far away from the coffins on the lowest floor as possible. He didn't like the chill that seemed to permeate the very air that they occupied and he didn't need a reminder of what might be waiting for him in a few years' time if he didn't discover a cure.

"I claimed this room!" Ingrid snarled, crossing her arms. It seemed childish, almost, to be arguing over this. But she had been belittled for far too long to not fight over the smallest of things. "What gives you the right to just come in here and take it?"

"I left your things in the room a few steps below," Vlad merely replied. "I even arranged them just like they were back in Romania." And ignoring his sister's protests, he waved his things into place and before Ingrid could manage more than a few scathing insults, it was as if he had never left his room a few countries away.

His sister was silent for an empty moment, her eyes boring into his in a quiet accusation. Then she brushed past him in chilling calm and left him to his own devices.

She would be angry for a while, Vlad knew. But he was willing to endure that. He hated the coffers more than anything in the entire mansion and that aversion was only heightened by what he had experienced at Hogwarts. The reminders of the dead only brought back images of a black wraith clinging to the life of another…

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**So that was just a small taste of what summer is going to be for Vlad. Short, but I just wanted something to introduce the summer :)**

**The general feedback I got the last chapter was that most people dislike OCs (some, with a burning passion). So I will try my best to not add the OC at all. It might crop up, but I will keep the OC to a VERY minimal role compared to the one I had in mind. I actually hate OCs too so it really shouldn't be too hard. I was iffy about the idea of one in the first place. **

**And just as a reminder, I will NOT have pairings very much at all outside from the canon ones. And even the canon ones will be mentioned only in passing at best. It just doesn't strike me that romantic focus would do this story much good. **

**Till next time!**


	19. Robin

**I do not own anything that will get me sued. **

**Thank you to my reviewers! **

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**Chapter 19: Robin**

The Branaugh couple was, perhaps, the most normal couple in the entirety of Stokely. And if not the most normal, they were certainly the most hospitable and warm welcoming. Bright colors and all-smiles were their trademark and their quaint house was the idealistic image one might find in a storybook. In a modern sense, they lived in a fairy-tale world complete with nature-loving tendencies and happy endings for all.

Their two eldest twin children, Ian and Paul, were your typical rugby players: big, strong, and not exactly the most intelligent of the bunch. A good four years older than their closest sibling, they often stuck to themselves and – like all twins – enjoyed the pleasure of each other's company. They did almost everything together and planned to continue that way for the foreseeable future.

On the other side of the spectrum, the youngest of the four Branaugh children and the only girl amongst them was Chloe. Brilliant, witty, and rather pint-sized, she was the family's local "baby" and her parents and brothers never failed to dote upon her. Reality was the name of the game for her and while her parents enjoyed seeing the best in everything and everybody, she took the precautions to remind herself that life was not always that way.

Robin, however, was a different story altogether.

He was something of a black sheep, and he would have told you so if you had asked. Rainbows, sunshine, and good cheer were far from his list of enjoyable things in the world. In his mind, darkness and morbid imagery were far more appealing. The mystery of ghouls, the regrets of the dead, and the danger of the wicked were Robin's cup of tea. And out of all his obsessions and fascinations with the mystical, he revered the myth of the vampires the most. If you were to walk into his room, you would find a myriad of skulls, drawings of the undead, vials of who-knew-what, and the general color scheme of black and purple.

Needless to say, Robin was a little different. So it was understandable that on the particular summer day his parents had decided to go on a camping trip, Robin was less than inclined to accompany them.

"Come down, Robin!" his mother called from the bottom of the stairs. "We're almost ready to go!"

For the past few weeks, it had been his goal to change his internal clock into a nocturnal one. And while Robin did find his mother endearing to a certain extent, he had been rather irritated as his plans were constantly thwarted by his family's plans.

"I already said I'm staying home! I'll be fine; there's plenty of leftovers to last me a few days!" he shouted back.

"Oh, come on dear. This is a family outing!"

Robin groaned aloud and tumbled with all the grace of a five-year-old out of his bed. He had, of course, neglected to pack whatever essentials he might need for a camping trip and he didn't hesitate to inform his mother about that particular fact. He was hoping it was enough to free him from his family duty to attend. When the only reply he received to that particular comment was his bedroom door slamming open to reveal his twin elder brothers, Robin only groaned again and proceeded to bury his head back under his covers.

"Look at the freak," scoffed Ian. "Still trying to become nocturnal?"

A small, blonde head poked its way in underneath the two larger boys and the fierce voice of Robin's sister snapped, "Oh, get up, Robin. You know Mom and Dad aren't going to leave without you."

The only reply both comments received was another prolonged moan. "I can't go. I'm allergic to sunlight."

Ever the most mature of the four, Chloe stepped inside the room and tugged the covers off her brother's head. "Come on, Robin. It won't be that bad. It's only for a day and you never know whom you're going to meet. Mom and Dad already met a new family moving into Stokely. I think they're going to living in that old mansion up the hill."

That caught Robin's attention. "What? The old mansion?"

"Yes," his sister replied cautiously. Robin was hardly ever interested in anything aside from his morbid obsessions. "Why are you suddenly so interested?"

Because any _normal_ family wouldn't move into that dilapidated construct. It was centuries old at least and it hardly seemed worth remodeling. "I think I'll go and say hello to the new neighbors," Robin said.

"What?"

"It's probably more interesting than camping. Tell Mom and Dad I'll be away for a bit."

Chloe could only stare in disbelief as her brother seemed to spring to life, pulling on his dark array of clothes complete with a long, black cape. He had never been interested in potential neighbors before. The largest reaction she had ever gotten from him on this particular topic was a grunt and maybe an eye roll. Yet in the span of a few minutes, Robin was ready to go and charging out the front door, oblivious to his parents' calls and his family's impending trip.

As he trudged up the hill, Robin couldn't help but be slightly excited. He had always looked at this mansion, dreamed about the strange creatures that might be wandering about and haunting it. As a child, he had visited many times just to see whether his imagination was true or not. Perhaps this was the chance he had been hoping for his entire life. Perhaps this family would be it. They didn't even have to be some mythical creature; if they were just less sprinkles and cheer, he would be happy. Stokely, a village of bright homes and equally mundane inhabitants, had always been something of a puzzle he couldn't quite fit.

Just as he was drawing level to the gigantic wooden doors of the mansion's entrance, he heard the footfalls and calls of his father running up the hill to catch him and quickly darted around the sidewall. He didn't want to be dragged back home quite yet. If he just waited his father out, perhaps he could meet this new family in peace.

But then he heard his father actually knock on the mansion's doors and he grimaced as somebody answered. Robin didn't bother to stay and eavesdrop; his father would most likely do something embarrassing.

He ventured a little further towards the back of the property and stared a little in awe at the tower facing the woodlands further east. The view must have been spectacular from the room window he could see at the top and he couldn't help but feel a little wistful at the thought that whoever slept there wouldn't have to gaze at the town all of the time. What wouldn't he give to have that view, to have some sort of image that wasn't all suburban and unbearably normal?

Robin was gazing up at the tower, lost in his thoughts, when the window abruptly opened and a young voice exclaimed, "I don't need another cape! Isn't my entire wardrobe of cloaks enough?"

Trouble in paradise? Robin felt slightly awkward listening in on the family's dynamics. Luckily – or unluckily – he was spared that continuous awkwardness when a piece of black clothing was suddenly thrown out the window and straight on to his face. He let out a startled splutter upon impact and stumbled before losing his balance.

Annoyance and worry about whether this was a good idea were Robin's first reactions. But when he saw that a cape almost exactly like his was what had fallen on him, pure elation replaced them. This family was just like him! They wore capes too – and lived in a haunted mansion to boot! Perhaps he wasn't alone in the town anymore and that thought made him smile. He fingered the material of the cape and was amazed at how smooth and well made it was. It was undoubtedly much better quality than his own, but that was expected considering he had gotten his off the Internet.

He could hardly keep this cape, even if the owner had technically thrown it out. Returning it would make the perfect excuse to come inside and then Robin could finally see for himself what this new family was like.

But then that would raise questions as to why he was hovering towards the back of the mansion in the first place. And what was he going to say to that? Robin bit his lips and crept back towards the entrance only to see his father still there and conversing with whoever had opened the door. He quickly retreated back and peered uneasily up at the tower window. His eyes drifted towards the enormous tree paralleling the building and he thought that perhaps he _could_ return the cape. It would just take some climbing…

His mind set on his new course of action, Robin slung the cape over his shoulders and proceeded to make his way up the branches of the old tree. The bark was slowly peeling and it swayed slightly in the breeze, but the boughs were sturdy and Robin was careful to test his weight before grasping any particular branch. He wasn't sure how long it took, but by the time he got to the top he was slightly winded and the sun was only a sliver against the horizon.

He was lucky that one specific branch was long enough and strong enough to support his weight as he crept towards the window and, peering in, he breathed a sigh of relief that nobody was inside. He wasn't breaking and entering. He was just…surreptitiously giving back something somebody had dropped.

Ignoring whatever common sense was telling him to stop, Robin slowly opened the window and jumped the last distance inside. His feet and body landed safely within, but he grimaced as the tearing sound of cloth erupted behind him. Glancing back, he saw that a corner of the cape he had been carrying had caught on the ledge and had torn.

Ignoring that as well, Robin cast a quick look around the room he had landed in and felt the heavy stone of disappointment settle within his gut. The room looked completely normal. With the exception of the rather archaic furniture, the bright colors and myriad of school supplies sprawled on the study desk indicated that just a normal student occupied the place. Robin had been hoping for something more akin to his own room and the sight of such a mundane bedroom disheartened him. He sighed and placed the torn cloak upon one of the unopened trunks, preparing himself for the long climb back down the tree outside.

Just as he was about to clamber out the window, the sound of the bedroom door opening shocked him into place and he found himself staring in shock at a boy about his age.

Again, Robin was disappointed to see the cheerfully colored clothing the boy wore and he very nearly continued on his way back out. But something about the way the boy's skin was not-quite-but-still-eerily-pale and the way his dark blue eyes shone from something other than the light of the setting sun made him stay stock still, waiting for the other boy's reaction.

It took a moment of stunned silence before the boy said, "I didn't know thieves were a problem here."

"It isn't," Robin hastily replied in an effort to fix the damage. "I – I was just returning your cape."

The boy's widened just a little more and his gaze settled upon the black cloth bunched on top of his trunk. "You tore it."

"But I still returned it, right?" Robin smiled sheepishly.

The boy's mouth tightened skeptically before a brief look of panic abruptly overcame his features. "Get under the bed!"

"Wha –"

"Now!"

Robin complied, if only because he didn't want to make the situation any worse than it already was. He huddled himself as best he could and tried to ignore the excess dust that threatened to overcome his senses. He had just stilled when another person came storming into the room.

The two quickly broke into a flurry of conversation in a language Robin had never heard. Russian? Romanian? He wasn't quite sure. Either way, he only heard the cadence of their voices, crescendoing into what seemed to be another argument. And right when he thought he they might come to blows, the person who had entered the room abruptly switched to English.

"-ook, Vladdy! See? I put some effort into this 'blending in' you wanted so badly. I learned the language of these peasants before coming. It's better than your sister; she still has to begin reading the book I got her about it."

"That's fantastic, father, but I don't think changing my…diet now would be a great idea!"

"Oh, come now! You'll love it, just like your father! There's nothing better than the taste of blood–"

"Father, please I don't think trying before I come of age would exactly be a good idea yet!"

"It's a new town, new chances! Trying early is still a good way to start. But if you would rather wait until your first fangs come –"

"Father!" A brief note of panic now tinged the boy's voice.

But Robin barely heard it as his breath hitched and his mind became a whirlwind of thoughts. Blood? First fangs? He couldn't leap to conclusions, but either this family was absolutely out of their minds or they were his dream come true.

"Why don't we talk about this later? After I finish unpacking. I'm a little tired from the trip."

"Of course, of course, Vladdy," the boy's father conceded. "I shall meet you at midnight sharp for dinner."

Robin waited until the man's footsteps had faded away before he crept out from under the bed. Immediately, he was subjugated to the boy's fierce glare and scathing, "Hello. I don't think we've been properly introduced. My name is Vlad and – oh – you must be the creep who just climbed into my window and just started wandering around."

"Robin. Look, I'm sorry about coming in like that but it was the only way to give your cloak back."

"Really?" Disbelief was clearly painted over Vlad's face. "You couldn't just have left it on the front door?" At Robin's blank gaze, the boy just sighed and shook his head. "Thank you, I suppose."

Vlad turned away then, as if giving Robin a chance to leave and have nothing come of this breaking and entering. A part of Robin was tempted do just that, but he had gone for so long with nobody he had ever really known to match his own eccentricities that he set his teeth and closed his eyes before baring his neck and leaning in.

Nothing happened for a long moment. Then Vlad asked, "What are you doing?"

Robin hoped that what he was doing wasn't completely off the mark and dared to say, "Aren't you going to bite me?"

"Bite you?" Vlad's voice was carefully neutral but there was just the slightest touch of apprehension that made Robin's hopes soar. "Why would I want to bite you?"

"You can if you want."

"No!"

Robin backed off then. The vehement rejection made his resolve falter the slightest bit as he replied, "Oh. Okay."

"Go! Don't linger here! You're lucky enough that my father didn't find you," Vlad hissed. "You have _no_ idea what he's capable of."

Take the plunge. Take the plunge. "I know exactly what he's capable of. You're vampires, aren't you?"

Something akin to horror flickered across the other boy's face before he swiftly turned around to mask it. "Don't be ridiculous. What a silly idea!"

But Robin continued to push. "Blood, first fang, eating dinner at midnight?"

Vlad was silent to the list of clearly abnormal things. He was painfully still, unmoving. Then he was whirling around and snarling, "You can't tell anybody! If you tell a single soul –"

"I think you're underestimating suburban apathy," Robin replied, the perfect image of calm. But inside, he was yelling and shouting with joy because here was everything he had ever hoped for. Here was the key out of his completely normal life. Here was something to make his days free of the façade of sunshine and happiness he so abhorred. "But honestly, vampires are awesome. It's so cool how –"

"No. It isn't." A frosty scowl had settled upon Vlad's face. "You have no idea. Vampires aren't 'awesome' or 'cool' like you think."

"But I know everything there is to know about them!"

"You _think_ you know everything. If you really did know everything, you wouldn't still be here and lingering to become my father's dinner."

"But I won't tell anybody! I swear!"

Vlad stilled at that. What had previously been walled off anger had suddenly become contemplative consideration. "You swear?"

"I do! You can't imagine how long I've wanted something like this to happen!"

The young vampire pursed his lips before holding out his hand. "Swear to me again."

Robin wasn't quite sure what a handshake would do to convince the other boy, but he quickly grasped Vlad's palm. A slight thrill went through him when it felt cold to the touch. "I swear that I will not tell anybody that your family is filled with vampires."

A satisfied smile graced Vlad's face at the promise and he finally relaxed. "Alright. Fine. You know, for the first normal person I've met, you're really not that…"

"Normal?" Robin supplied. "Well for my first vampire, you're really not that vampiric."

"And that is something I'm grateful to hear. Now get out before my father catches you. We wouldn't want the entire town to be out searching for a missing person, do we?"

~0~

The moment the human boy, Robin, had left the property safely, Vlad finally allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. He was just grateful that his father had not been too hungry. Had the Count been thirsting, he would have been able to sense the presence of a Breather. His concealing spells that he had hastily thrown on Robin had probably helped, but Vlad wasn't arrogant enough to think that his magic was trained enough yet to block his father. It was a good thing that the first thing he had done with his room was cast illusion spells he had learned specifically to protect the things he wished to keep secret. Whoever entered the room would not see what Vlad didn't want them to see – not unless he gave them express permission.

Never before had he been gladder for his wandless magic. If he had been restricted from using it outside of Hogwarts like the rest of his classmates, there was no way he would have been able to hide everything like he had. He didn't need Robin figuring out that he was a wizard on top of being a vampire. It was bad enough that a mortal had already discovered that his family was vampires. If Vlad hadn't made Robin swear a binding magical promise, he would have knocked the boy unconscious and left him outside to believe it all a dream.

Vlad had been so, so tempted to do just that. It would make life so much easier; he didn't need any more complications. But when he had seen the chance to have another person his age to converse with – another possible friend – he just couldn't let the chance pass by him.

Robin was another step to normalcy for Vlad, even if the other boy wasn't exactly normal.

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**I'm going to try my best not to make a complete mimic of what happened in the Young Dracula series. I will probably draw from a lot of the quick one-episode plot lines that I think will be effective in this story for the summer but it will be changed, of course. **

**For those of you who did watch the Young Dracula series, I tried to make this slightly more realistic than the TV show. Because in the show, Robin just come out of nowhere and suddenly Vlad, Ingrid, and the Count were completely okay with it because Robin promised not to tell anybody. Realistically, that wouldn't fly at all. So I took advantage of the fact that Vlad has accessible magic and I made it so that neither his sister nor his father know about Robin. His sister wouldn't be quite so understanding and the Count would probably just eat Robin upon sight. **

**Things will be considerably different because of that. **

**Till next time!**


	20. School

**I do not own anything that could get me sued. **

**Thank you to all of my reviewers! Again, I always appreciate the time you take to write something. **

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**Chapter 20: Breathers and School**

For the first few weeks of summer, life seemed to sink into a sort of lazy calm, a peace Vlad valued after his rather hectic year. With the exception of his sister's increasing ire at every thing and everybody, his days often incorporated sleep, his magical books, and the occasional chat with Nox and Zoltan. The feline and stuffed Hellhound had a rocky start, but the two had eventually fallen into a mutual tolerance of each other. Vlad had pointedly refused to acknowledge either of them after they had nearly destroyed his room in an argument until they had formally apologized. If Vlad were to ignore the fact that he was living in a mansion with a vampire for a father and wizards for friends, life was nothing more than mundane. A part of Vlad wanted it to last forever. Life was simple.

But – like all good things – it came to an end and Vlad knew it when Robin came knocking on the front door.

The young vampire raced down the stairs and down the hallways to the entrance, praying that his father or Renfield wouldn't be there first. If either of them found Robin, Vlad might end up having to explain to the town of Stokely why they their population had decreased by one. By the time his feet had skidded to a stop on the stone floor, his heart sank when he saw somebody worse than either his father or the family servant greeting Robin: Ingrid.

"Who is this, Vlad?" his sister asked, her voice cloyingly sweet. "A friend? You never told me you had already met somebody." Vlad could only stare for a moment at the fluent, if slightly accented, English that came from her mouth. It seemed that Ingrid had taken the liberty of learning the new language, after all.

Robin seemed on the verge of answering, but Vlad quickly blurt out, "He's one of the neighbors. I saw him on the drive up." He smiled at the other boy, trying his hardest to silently convince Robin to go with the flow. "It's nice to meet you."

But the human was paying no attention whatsoever. His eyes were staring a little wide-eyed at Ingrid's face and the only reply he offered was, "You're really pretty."

"I know," Ingrid smiled smugly. "But please, continue. You were telling me why you had decided to drop by."

Robin blinked at the request before his eyes finally focused. "Oh. I – uh – was just here to say hello. Greet the new neighbors and all that."

"Alone?"

"Ah – uh – well yes. My family is a little busy. I decided to come alone today."

Ingrid raised her eyebrows, clearly unconvinced. But she relaxed her scrutiny and interrogation and said, "Well, that's a pity because my father doesn't exactly welcome guests. Of course…unless you'd be willing to provide some donations."

"What kind of donations?" Robin asked naively.

"Nothing!" Vlad blurted out. "Nothing. It's alright, Ingrid. I'll talk to him outside." And before his sister could retort, he rushed past her and out the door while dragging the other boy with him. He pulled them far enough away – down the hill and then some – before slowing down and glancing about to make sure his sister hadn't followed. When they were suitably alone, he whirled upon Robin and quietly hissed, "First of all, you're pretty silly to think you know everything about vampires when you forget that any 'donations' my father would want would have to do with blood. And second…are you insane? What on earth gave you the idea that walking up to my home's front door would be safe?"

Robin seemed hardly fazed by Vlad's vehemence. He merely shrugged and quirked a slight smile on his face. "Well, you guys weren't exactly venturing out of your castle and I was just beginning to wonder whether you ever would. So I decided to check it out." His brow furrowed and he looked at Vlad curiously. "But I wasn't planning on going about with you. I didn't think vampires could walk in the sun."

"They normally can't," Vlad replied, curtly leaving it at that. "Come on, we're already out. We might as well take a walk or something." If he didn't sate the other boy's strange obsession with him and his family, the young vampire worried that Robin would just come back again, risking his neck. "And my family doesn't know that you know we're vampires. So could you please try not to make yourself an even bigger target than you already are?"

Robin just grinned in reply and Vlad had to question Fate why he had ended up with the strangest of acquaintances. "Why don't I give you a tour of Stokely?"

The vampire shifted uncomfortably at the idea. "I don't know. I'd love to, don't misunderstand me. But it's really better that I don't draw any attention to myself…"

"Come on. It won't be that bad."

And Vlad gave in within a few more of Robin's insistences. It was difficult for him to say no and he had finally caved in. Ever since he had been a child, he had wanted to venture within the town nearby his home. Back in Transylvania, he had never actually seen all there was to see in the normal lives of others and now that it was being offered to him on a silver platter, his resolve quickly withered. He disregarded the possibility of his father's ire – Vlad had hardly ever seen the Count happier in his life than he had since his homecoming – and he dismissed his sister's possible "tattle." This time, there was nothing really stopping him from doing as he liked and he decided to take advantage of it.

As they ambled around the town, Vlad couldn't help but stare a little in amazement. The place was hardly the height of opulence he had grown up surrounded by, and that made it all the more endearing to him. Everything from the homes to the local movie theatre reeked of a simplicity that Vlad craved. The bustle of the people in the streets and the cars on the road proceeded calmly and it soothed him to be amongst the buzz of everyday life like he was a part of it.

Robin, though, seemed to have other sentiments. "It's just…so _boring_," the boy finally sighed out towards the end of their walk. At Vlad's skeptical glance, Robin insisted, "It really is! All you ever see are the same houses just painted slightly differently for streets and streets and then there are the occasional markets or schools. Nothing ever happens here, Vlad!"

"I think it's very nice," the vampire frowned. "It seems very peaceful here."

"Maybe that's easy for you to say; you probably didn't have to deal with so much normal before. At least your family is _different_."

Bitterness coated Vlad's tongue. "Different doesn't exactly mean better, Robin."

"I don't get you," the other boy shook his head. Vlad could say the same back, but he allowed the topic to dwindle away as they walked together in relative silence.

When they neared the base of the hill leading up to the castle, Robin paused and said, "You have to promise that you're going to come down here. And don't take a few weeks to do it. Maybe if I can come over and visit too; that'd be nice –"

"Robin."

"Alright, alright. I know: keep away from the big, bad vampires." He rolled his eyes. "But you have to come down and we'll talk. I'm not letting this chance pass by; how many other people have a vampire for a source of information?" Robin grinned excitedly at the thought. "Besides, if you don't come down – and your sister too – the people in the town will begin to wonder what's going on. There's summer school, you know. And considering that you're new, people are going to expect that you attend. To make sure that you're caught up with the curriculum and whatever."

Vlad eyed the other boy before letting out a breath. "Okay. If I can convince my father, I'll be down. And did you mention school…?"

~0~

"You can't seriously think that I'm going to school."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, Vladdy, but I think your sister might be right." The Count shuddered at the admission. "It's bad enough that I send you off to the wizards' school to get – ugh – _good grades_. You can't expect me to allow you to go off to a _Breather_ school, even if you are planning on wreaking havoc."

Vlad had known those would be the reactions he would get from his family. He had debated and argued with himself about the topic after returning from his tour with Robin and in the end, he had decided to give in again. Yes, he had summer classwork to complete from Hogwarts, but he would be able to finish it early enough if he spaced himself out well. He was doing nothing, really, besides that and going to the local school would be the ideal way to take up what time he had to spare. That, and he hoped that perhaps he would be able to make a few more companions his age. Normal ones.

But he was starting to think that maybe he should have brought up the topic _after_ his father had eaten for the night. It was probably not the wisest decision to approach the Count about attending school right after the man had woken up.

"But don't you think people will begin to wonder why we never leave? Don't you think they'll begin to snoop around if we don't blend in?" Vlad argued back.

The Count scoffed. "Don't be silly. In Transylvania the peasants never questioned us."

"That's because they didn't even know we were living there. They thought our home was just haunted. Here, they know we're occupying the castle."

"Then let them know. Let them know that they're living beneath our more superior species!"

"Father!" Vlad exclaimed. "You can't just do that!"

"And why not?"

"Vlad just wants to make friends," Ingrid smiled condescendingly, pulling the conversation in a different direction. "He thinks he can be one of _them_."

"Our kind don't need friends," the Count growled, low in his throat as his eyes flashed crimson red. "And my children do _not_ go to school. Especially school filled with filthy Breathers."

Vlad snapped, "Then what is Hogwarts?"

"Training," his father curtly replied. "Taking advantage of the knowledge an inferior species can offer. It is not a mundane school – that is for sure. School is where children sit still and listen quietly for hours upon end to a babbling fool like bumbling idiots. The wizards' training is necessary for your power. But my heir will not be subjected to something so degrading and unworthy as a commonplace farce of an instructing prison. You shall only receive the very best, and it shall come to you, not the other way around."

Vlad was still and his jaw was rigid. "So you will not allow me to go."

"No."

"Well," Vlad replied, his throat thick. "Well. Thank you, father, for ignoring my wishes."

"Oh, Vladdy, don't be such a spoilsport –"

But the younger vampire had already shoved his chair back and gone.

~0~

The following day had not been a pleasant one in the Dracula household. At least not for Vlad. Ingrid seemed beyond pleased to find that it was her brother, and not her, that was completely miserable and upset due to their father's stubbornness for once and it was not past her to strut her glee. Vlad took the extra effort of locking himself in his room and had even placed an enchantment on the door to ensure that nobody could come in. Zoltan had tried to offer a few words of comfort, but he had quickly fallen silent after Vlad had told him to do so. Nox was slightly wiser and had made sure to steer clear of the young vampire.

It was, perhaps, not so much the idea that he was not in school that bothered Vlad. It was far more that his father had – for the umpteenth time – believed he knew what his son wanted most and had completely disregarded any other possibility. True, the Count tried every day to spoil his son and heir rotten, but the man was missing the most important fact that he was doing it in all the wrong ways. He was trying to spoil his _vampire_ son when Vlad wanted to be anything but.

Vlad had gotten into many arguments with his father over the years about this exact same topic. But with the compound effect of the school year's ending, the young vampire felt like he wanted to scream and rip his hair out. But that would have been merely counterproductive, so he immersed himself within his schoolbooks and lost himself to the words.

It wasn't until the following night that his father's voice pulled him out of his self-induced study session. The Count called up, "Vlad! It's a quarter past midnight!"

The boy sighed and closed his books before snuffing his candles with a snap. But contrary to Vlad's idea of a night's sleep, his father came bursting through his bedroom door – the man's inherent power focused enough to snap his son's locking spell – and commanded the candles back to light.

"Come on. Get up," the Count demanded.

"I've been up all day," Vlad gritted out.

"That was your choice, not mine. Come, come." The older vampire beckoned his son over to the window, throwing it open to reveal the open night air and the bloated moon hovering above. "Come look at this beautiful moonshine. You can't just laze about in bed all night."

It was another one of his father's attempts to make amends. It was hardly the way to go about it, but apologies weren't in the man's vocabulary comprehension. Interacting with his son and trying to relate were the closest Vlad would ever get to an amend and while the attempt was normally enough to placate the boy, this time he was not so easily mollified.

"You do realize I'm not a vampire yet," Vlad snapped irritably, still unwilling to pull himself out of his bed. "I sleep at night. I like garlic bread. I walk in the sun." His eyes narrowed. "I want to go to school."

"Don't be silly. You _are_ a vampire – just one without your full power yet." The Count's gaze examined his son's face. "Is this about the friends thing, hm? Because I've been thinking about what you said earlier."

Hope – bright and blinding – blossomed within Vlad's chest and he could hardly bear to taste it. "You mean you've changed your mind? I can go to school?"

"No, even better…I'll be your," the Count grimaced, "friend."

Whatever elation Vlad had for the split second a moment earlier died immediately and cold bitterness replaced it. "I was hoping to have friends born within the last century."

"I can teach you all my ways!"

"I don't _want_ that!" Vlad exclaimed back. "I don't _want_ to be a vampire! How many times have I told you that, father? I just want to be an ordinary boy!"

His father's face became eerily stony at the proclamation and darkness flittered across it, his eyes turning a pitch black. The air seemed to solidify within a second's span, suffocating in its intensity. A clap of thunder – a clear indicator of his father's ire – deafened the younger vampire and for a moment, he felt a slight touch of fear. For all the Count's faults, the man possessed strong vampiric power and sometimes it was easy to forget that the man could easily snap his neck. The only thing that kept Vlad indignant and unwavering was the knowledge that no vampire would willingly kill his own still-breathing offspring.

"You disappoint me," his father murmured, his voice quiet and layered with power.

They gazed at each other for a few seconds, both vampires unwilling to back down. And then the Count stepped away and left with barely a sound, the candles dying out the moment the door closed behind him.

As Vlad sat still in the darkness, his eyes flickered over to the open window and frustration marred his thoughts. He was still angry with his father and he still believed that he had every right to be. But his father was a vampire and it wasn't within the Count's nature to raise his son as anything other than the vampire he himself was. The man had probably never thought that any child of his would willingly wish to become mortal and a twinge of regret and sorrow made Vlad sigh. And things had been going so well, better than they had been in years. The Count was trying, in his own way, and Hogwarts seemed to have opened something that both of them could share. But Vlad now saw that it was only a temporary solution and the main conflict of interests was still as alive than ever.

Sometimes it made Vlad think that his father might have done better with a different son.

~0~

Morning found Vlad poking listlessly at his breakfast. It was actually edible for once and the fact that there was only a smidgen of mold on the corner of the plate indicated that Renfield had tried his best to make the meal suitable. The action was almost thoughtful, but Vlad knew better than to think that the servant had done it to mollify the tension within the castle. It was far more likely that the filthy man was hoping to help things in order to alleviate the Count's dour mood. Life was more miserable for Renfield when his master was less forgiving of his mistakes.

Vlad was in the midst of his oatmeal when a doorbell echoed throughout the castle. He froze, his spoon halfway to his mouth. He was prepared to open the door himself but Renfield came into the dining room a few minutes later, a silly smile on his face. It made the young vampire want to groan; nothing ever good came from that expression.

"What is it, filth?" Ingrid sneered over her own breakfast. "What have you done now?"

"Somebody is here to see you and young master Vlad, Mistress Ingrid," Renfield replied, fidgeting. "She seems to have brought a metal horse with her."

Before Vlad could so much as furrow his brow at the strange comment, an elderly woman – perhaps in her forties or fifties – came strolling in dressed in exercise gear and towing a bike alongside her. She focused her eyes upon Vlad's form and smiled, "Hello. You must be Vlad. And…you must be Ingrid!"

The young vampiress merely gave the woman a sneer. "And you must be wearing that for charity."

Oh, blood and garlic. Vlad wanted to strangle Renfield. What in shadows' name was their servant thinking? The young vampire groaned and placed his spoon back on his plate. Of course. Renfield must have believed the "meal" would placate the Count.

Speak of the devil…

"Who is this?" Needless to say, the Count was irritable. He hated daytime like the plague and when he was forced to wake from the castle's echoing doorbell, it was a clear indicator that the day was not off to a good start.

"I am Ms. Harker! I am the Headmistress at the local grammar school in Stokely. You must be Mr.…?"

"Count," Vlad's father replied with a slight growl in his throat. They had agreed on the drive to Stokely that they would conceal their true name. The Count had been fiercely against it at the onset; the man did not care whether they were recognized or not. But Vlad had pulled a few strings with his "favorite child" status and his father had reluctantly agreed to keep their family name unknown. The only consolation the older vampire had found out of the agreement had been the fact that their new surnames would consist of his own forename.

"Ah. Count." The headmistress smiled, but her demeanor quickly sobered as her lips took on a thinner line. "I have been receiving…reports. That the children are not being placed into school."

The Count's eyes narrowed and Vlad saw the faintest flicker of red within his father's irises. "Reports? From whom?"

"I'm afraid I can't say."

"Well then I can hardly take your words into account. Whoever presumes they have the right to 'report' on what I choose to do with my own children cannot be more than a bumbling fool."

An indignant expression overcame Ms. Harker's face. "Now look, I don't know where you hail from, Mr. Count. But in our country, children are required to go to school. And if you refuse to cooperate, they will be taken away!"

Vlad felt panic constrict his throat at the immediate hatred and fury in his father's eyes. How the headmistress continued to be oblivious to the dangerous situation she was placing herself in was beyond the young vampire, but he knew he had to try and diffuse the tension now before something happened. If there was one thing vampires reacted badly to, it was a threat to take anything that belonged to them. And his father was already in a dreadful mood from the previous night's conflict.

"Really?" The Count's voice had quieted to a deadly whisper. "And, pray tell, how would you go about that?"

Some lingering animal instinct within the headmistress prompted her to shiver slightly at the dropping temperature in the room, but the look of brief confusion on her face clearly showed that she still had no idea how deep a hole she was digging for herself. "It wouldn't cost a thing," she persevered. "And children deserve an education. You cannot just keep them ignorant and unlearned as they are."

"I hardly think my children are _unlearned_. I daresay your pitiful excuse of a school houses the general population of fools. I will not send my children to something so lowly."

"Now look, Mr. Count. It's quite simple." Some righteous anger was now coloring the woman's tone, pushing her on despite fact that her instincts were probably screaming at her to run. "Either you send your children to go to school or you will be taken to Court."

The challenge flared the Count's rage. "Taken to Court?" A predatory smile crooked his expression into one of cold amusement as if he were speaking to nothing more than an ant beneath his feet. "I am aquiver with fear." He chuckled, his voice laced with layers of power. "And, pray tell, what is this so-called Court?"

"Father!" Vlad hissed, terrified. He could feel the Count's control wavering and he could sense the man's power beginning to coalesce. It was clear to the young vampire that his father was about to take the headmistress as a meal right on the spot and that was the last thing Vlad wanted.

"I don't know why you are so against it," Ms. Harker protested. "It will be no burden to you. And we have a qualified staff you would be pleased to know is teaching your children. Why, we have a great variety of classes; we just added carpentry this year! Mr. Van Hellsing came from a few counties away just to teach the class –"

"Van Hellsing?" Something within the Count's voice had changed. All of the man's gathering power immediately dissipated at the name and curiosity mixed with another inscrutable emotion replaced his anger.

"Why, yes. He is a fabulous carpenter, I've heard –"

"You can take the girl."

" – that he has had years of experience in the field." Then whatever the older vampire had said finally sank in. A slightly baffled expression overcame the headmistress's face for a moment before her wide smile returned. "Oh! Well, that is a start, I suppose. But surely you wish for your son to have the same opportunity."

"What?" Ingrid screeched aloud.

"I still have hope for the boy," the Count replied, ignoring his daughter.

"I suppose he must be still adjusting to the new environment. But, Mr. Count, Vlad must attend school eventually otherwise I'm afraid I will have to file a report."

Annoyance made the Count bare his teeth. "Very well," he smoothly bit out. "But I'm afraid he can only attend for half of the day. Weak constitution, you see."

"That can be arranged," the headmistress beamed, clearly pleased with herself. "I will have them registered to begin next week."

"Wonderful." Vlad's father looked anything but satisfied. "Renfield, show her out."

As their servant ushered the woman to the entrance, the Count turned upon his children and eyed them both. "Which one of you was it? Which one of you informed that Breather?" His voice was so frigid it made Vlad shudder. It was rare to see his father in such a mood, even after last night's argument.

Ingrid sneered. "It was obviously the Breather-lover. Why would _I_ want to go to a filthy commoner school?"

As his father's eyes turned coldly upon him, Vlad quickly spluttered out, "But it wasn't me! I swear it!" Then the thought that perhaps Robin might have made his heart stop. What if Ingrid told? What if she mentioned that one Breather boy who had happened to stop by a day ago…?

But his sister did not say a word. She only watched as their father slowly stared at his son in the eye and then turned to face the hearth. With a snap of his fingers, the fireplace burst into a wave of flame, flickering dangerously high in tangent to the Count's current temper.

"I see the truth in your eyes, Vladimir," the older vampire murmured, his sudden severity making the two siblings glance at each other. Their father was almost never this sober or exacting. Not unless something drastic had occurred. "And I will take your word on this matter." The man turned to his children, his expression stony. "But now we have another problem at hand. One I have not dealt with in nigh fourteen years. Tell me, my offspring. Do you recall the stories you were once told? Do you remember the tales of those Breathers who foolishly take up the stake? The ones who thoughtlessly plunge into our domains and strike us down? Do you recollect the warnings of those who dare to deem themselves vampire slayers?"

_Slayers_. The mortals Vlad had only ever heard in stories. He knew they were real, that they existed even today when modern society refused to believe in "fantasy." But never had he actually imagined meeting or encountering one. In Vlad's mind, the Slayers were akin to the Boogieman in normal children's minds. Which was rather foolish on his part, considering all vampires came across a Slayer at least once in their eternal lives.

A hiss escaped Ingrid's lips. "Van Hellsing."

And for once, their father did not tell his daughter to be silent. Instead, he nodded curtly. "Yes. One of the oldest and most prominent of the Slayer bloodlines."

Vlad had not recognized the name at first, but now that his family had pointed it out, he knew exactly why his father had abruptly conceded to his children's attending Breather school. If this Van Hellsing was indeed the one all three of them were thinking about, then blending in would be the wisest choice. Perhaps the Count could easily handle the Slayer – Vlad's father had six hundred years of experience and power after all – but if they attracted attention, they would draw the eyes of the entire Slayer organization. And _that_ would be a problem since they were currently geographically detached from their kind and Vlad couldn't really any interruption in his magical schooling.

"I suppose I have to go, then," Ingrid replied. Her father's approval with her earlier recognition of the Van Hellsing name had clearly done wonders to her compliance. Then her face twisted into distaste. "But why must I stay the entire day? You could have told that Breather an excuse for me as well."

"Unless you wish to find a stake through your heart before you even come of age, I suggest you do as your told, girl," the Count snapped, his approval gone faster than the blink of an eye. "And the last time I checked, you were not invited to study magic. Vladdy cannot waste more time than he must in Breather school; he has far more important matters to attend to."

A furious red had begun to color Ingrid's face again, but Vlad's sudden laughter made her freeze. It was elated and borderline hysterical. And honestly, if he were asked, Vlad wouldn't have been able to say why he had abruptly found it appropriate to think the situation funny. But one thing was for sure: he had finally gotten what he had wanted thanks to a Slayer, of all things.

"I'm going to school!"

* * *

**Um well yea...here is the next chapter? It's significantly different from canon. Partly because my story is less comedic than the TV show. The Count won't just freak out because of a mob of Breathers; he could probably eat them all before they did so much as take a few steps. So yea...he didn't run from Transylvania because he was afraid of a mob and he certainly didn't allow Vlad to go to school because of the threat of a mob. **

**And the Van Hellsings will probably be very different as well. Jonno will be here of course and still skeptical at first. But his father will definitely be more legit. More of a threat. **

**Till next time!**


End file.
